Blood of Awakening
by Anonymousness
Summary: Three decades have passed, but as Haji approaches the tomb, he realizes that he’s not alone. He wasn’t the only Chevalier to narrowly escape death in ’06.
1. Time

This piece takes place post ep. 50. Major spoilers all over the place.

This is also essentially a prequel for _Where Black Met Gold_, but should function independently of that story. Originally, this was going to be a long one shot, but I have decided to divide it up into a few relatively short chapters.

Rated M for some fairly occational language, mild adult themes and infrequent violence, but nothing more gory than you might see in the anime itself.

Oh, and I'll be eternally greatful if you review!

* * *

March 31st , 2009

_

* * *

_

_That noise._

_A train whistle?_ he thought groggily in the pitch darkness.

_No, machinery._

It was the roaring-whine of an engine, the backhoe that was tearing away at the concrete boulders above him.

Ironically, the collapsed balcony had saved Haji's life; the thick concrete had shielded him from the subsequent bombs. However, blood deprived and terribly wounded, his body went into a sort of death-defying stasis that lasted for over three years.

The pitch black ignited into blood red as the afternoon sun burst through his eyelids, but the act of opening them, let alone moving his body seemed impossibly strenuous.

_So weak._

The sound of the engine ceased.

_Someone shouting in English._

"What the hell is that?!"

_Footsteps, coming closer._

"Look at him."

"That's just weird man."

"The body looks so fresh, like he died yesterday. Doesn't stink or nothin'."

"Yeah but this dude should be a pile of bones, like the other ones."

"Maybe he's part of the night-shift cleanup crew and some shit fell on him, that'd explain why the body's so fresh."

"Clean up crew in a tux?"

"What's all this shit?"

"Looks like red broken glass."

"Heh, check it out, here's his other arm!"

The two men were lifting the smaller rocks off him, one by one. The feeling reminded Haji of ascending through the depths of the ocean, the sensation of crushing pressure gradually fading away.

"His arm's burned-up real bad, and look at the size a that hole in his gut! Damn! Looks like he got shot with a bowling ball!"

"Didn't the boss say we should tell him if we find anything weird?"

"I'd say this guy counts as weird."

"I'll go get the boss, you stay here."

"Stay here? What? In case the dead guy walks away?"

"To shoo the crows, stupid."

Virtually too weak to move, Haji finally managed to crack open an eye and glance at the young man, now absentmindedly smoking a cigarette over him, wearing a yellow hazard suit, the mask and hood hanging unused around his neck. Haji immediately noticed the various emblems indicating affiliation with the American military. To be seen by this man's superiors would almost certainly result in his becoming their prisoner.

_That is absolutely not an option._

His plan was created and executed out of desperation. Haji intentionally let out a weak groan, gaining the attention of the man standing over him.

"No way," the young man muttered. "Must be the gasses escaping or somethin'."

Haji let out another groan, and with a burst of effort, grabbed the man's ankle.

"Holy shit!" he shrieked as he jumped away. He panted for several seconds before slowly re-approaching the _body_.

"You alive?" he asked in terrified astonishment.

Haji lifted his hand and beckoned to the man with a few curls of his index finger, trembling slightly from the sheer physical strain of the movement.

The young American hesitated a few seconds before crouching down beside him.

Dusty, cracked lips slowly peeled apart.

"Closer," Haji croaked almost unintelligibly.

"What was that?" the young man asked, in morbid fascination.

"Closer."

The young man leaned down, his head turned horizontally, his ear within an inch of Haji's mouth.

Mustering all of what little strength the wounded Chevalier had, he lunged forward, glinting fangs fully visible for the split second before they were buried in the man's neck.

He seemed to be too shocked to struggle at first, and by the time he had regained any of his wits, Haji had siphoned enough blood to make him pass out.

The wounded Chevalier released him far later than he would have ordinarily preferred. Under normal circumstances, he would take no more than a trivial amount of blood, and he rarely even did that.

These were obviously not normal circumstances.

Haji lay motionless as he felt his wounds begin to close and some vestige of his strength returned. He knew it would take more for him to recover fully, but killing that young man was to far beyond his self-imposed moral code, even in a crisis.

He grunted softly as he finally stood, glancing around for the aforementioned limb, which lay a few feet away. He bent over stiffly, grasping his own severed arm, and holding it against his shoulder until he felt the bisected humerus began to knit together.

It was a process that self-loathing had caused him to neglect in Vietnam.

He wasted no time in lifting a nearby hunk of rubble, unearthing Saya's sword, and took a moment to look down at the pale, unconscious clean-up worker.

"My apologies," he mumbled as he disappeared.

* * *

April 16th, 2009

* * *

The sign in the window flipped over, announcing the start of the day's business. Or lack thereof. Of course, Kai had no problem with this. Quiet time is priceless for any parent of a three-year old, let alone the single father of twins who possessed super-human strength and speed, and craved human blood in addition to the usual candy and soda.

They were at the park with their uncles, whose presence was only tolerated due to the help it afforded. Careful prioritizing was essential in situations such as this; these precious moments of peace had to be spent wisely. Kai glanced around the familiar scenery of the pub, but instead of settling on a suitable occupation, his eyes fixed on a tall, back lit figure standing in the doorway.

His slight gasp trailed off into a pleased grin.

"I saw your flower at the tomb yesterday, so I've been wonderin' when you were gonna drop by."

True to form, Haji said nothing, simply gave a slight nod in acknowledgement of the statement.

"I'm not tryin' to pry or anything, but what the hell took you so long, it's been, what, three years?"

Haji's eyes shifted, forming into a familiar, far-off, pensive look.

"Eh, you don't have to answer that. I'm sure you came as soon as you could."

Haji nodded.

"Well c'mon, sit down," Kai offered, gesturing toward the bar. "Let me get you a drink."

Haji made his way over to a barstool, "No, thank you."

Kai laughed. "C'mon! An old friend walks into my pub and doesn't get one on the house? My dad raised me better than that." He set out a shot glass and reached under the bar into a small refrigerator, and before his guest could protest further, had poured the contents of a half-empty blood-pack into the small cup.

"Gotta keep this stuff around. I'm the only human in this house."

Haji hesitated.

"Don't worry, it's not mine. I get 'em from Julia."

He still hesitated. To him, blood-drinking was akin to bathroom habits, something to be done in shame and secrecy.

Kai reached for the glass. "I could warm it up for you -"

Haji realized he had lost this particular battle of manners, and reluctantly downed the contents of the shot glass.

Kai busied himself drying some dishes.

"Always knew you were alive. You know why?"

Haji sensed that it was a rhetorical question.

"Because she wasn't that upset," Kai's tone turned a little more serious. "I figured that she would have been _way _worse if she actually thought you were dead, I mean, we both saw what happened after Riku, and he was only part of her family for a year and a half, plus, if anyone knows what will and wont kill you, it's her."

"I am glad that she was happy at the end."

"I wouldn't say happy, she was a little mopey. My guess is that she missed you."

There was a long pause; Haji wasn't sure how to respond to this, so he eventually changed the subject.

"Did everyone else make it out of the building unharmed?"

"Yeah." Kai paused. "They're all fine. David and Julia live on the other side of town, they've got a kid now, and another on the way. I heard Joel got married, and his wife's pregnant too - not sure how that works, but I guess if you're the richest paraplegic in the world, they'll probably find a way to stick a bun in your wife's oven. Lewis is back in the states, last I heard, he lost like a hundred pounds, says he only got fat so his old CIA buddies wouldn't recognize him - yeah right. Oh, and last I heard, Mao and Okamura -" he paused and laughed in spite of himself, "- look, you can shut me up any time now."

No sooner than the words had left his lips than he noticed that Haji's eyes had fixed on a framed picture hanging on the wall, depicting a pair of toddlers standing in front of two men, both in suits, one in elegant black silk, the other in eggplant-purple corduroy.

_Solomon Goldsmith and Nathan Mahler._

"Look, I know what you're thinking, and once you get to know 'em, they're not half bad," he paused and laughed, "probably more like three-quarters bad." He laughed again. "Nah, but seriously, they've really helped me out a lot, though. I know, seems weird that they'd wanna pitch in, especially Mahler - man, I think he's just on a mission to drive me crazy a little bit at a time, but Solomon, well, I'm pretty sure I know why _he's_ being such a suck-up," the latter half of the sentence was said with an exasperated groan. "Whatever, I'll take all the help I can get. Mahler's actually really good with the kids, or at least way better than you'd expect from a blood-sucking drama-queer. And Solomon - the twins just adore him," he shook his head, "the ole _ladies' man_, but I wish he'd stop trying to give me money. As you can see, business isn't booming, but I get a decent stipend from the Shield. They're out right now by the way, took the twins to the park, but I bet I don't need to tell you that, I bet you were waiting for them to leave. But yeah, they just showed up a few years ago, wanting to help out, funny story really."

He glanced at the silent Chevalier and stood from his stool.

"Heh, listen to me, babbling away again," he chuckled as he walked across the room. "You probably just came by to get the scoop on Saya and to pick up your cello."

Haji followed obediently until his host pulled open the door of a closet.

Kai watched as Haji's eyes wandered over it's contents. The dresses were the most conspicuous, half-a-dozen identical black and white school uniforms, a short zippered jumper made of burgundy leather and a satin ball gown that could have easily been mistaken for a wedding dress.

"I don't suppose _you _want this stuff. I can't quite get rid of it."

He saw Haji's eyes fix on the last garment on the rack, a torn, bloodstained pink dress.

"I'd have definitely thrown _that_ one away, but Julia says it has to be burned on account of the blood – but seems like a creepy thing to do."

Haji bent down to retrieve the cello case that lay flat across the floor, and heard the clang of steel as he pulled it away. A battle-ax fell to the floor.

Kai sighed. "Lulu passed on last month. Julia's treatments gave her a little more time, but Schiff are Schiff, can't prevent the inevitable."

"I am sorry to hear that."

"They're all together now, the way they wanted – and no one's gonna forget them."

Haji nodded as he threw his meager belongings across his back. "Thank you. I will not take up any more of your time," he said quietly as he made his way toward the door.

Kai spoke before he reached it. "Mahler and Solomon say that thirty years is only approximate, that sometimes it's as little as twenty, sometimes as many as forty-five."

Haji nodded.

"They say that only the Chevalier knows when it's about to happen, they say that you'll know when the time comes. You'll let me know, right?"

Haji nodded again.

"Hey, we've got a pretty badassed lock on the tomb now, the combo is 841833. No one else knows, but I figure I'd better tell someone, just in case I drop dead or something, and I cant think of anyone else I'd trust with it.

"Thank you."

A long pause.

"So, what's the plan? When she wakes up, I mean."

Haji would have been a liar if he said he hadn't considered it yet. It was nearly a minute before he answered.

"The choice is more yours than mine. You are her brother. I am only her servant."

Kai shot him a questioning glance. He knew as well as anyone that Haji was definitely more than a servant, despite the fact that it was still anyone's guess as to what they were like in private. Curiously, during the course of the war, Kai had found himself spending more and more time wondering about the nature of Saya and Haji's relationship, devoting considerable amounts of cognitive energy to weighing the mountains of ambiguous evidence. Despite that, he had never been able to discern if they were as strictly platonic as they seemed to want people to think, or if their moments alone were occupied by discreet lovemaking. It wasn't until the end, until witnessing the first second of that shy kiss, when he finally understood that the truth was just as paradoxical as the evidence.

"You _really_ think that, Haji?"

Another long pause.

He calmly pushed the door open. "I _will_ watch over her forever. But when she wakes, she will need a family more than a protector. It was you and your family, who made her smile again." There was a strange, wistful quality to his statement.

"But you love her, don't you?!" Kai called after him, but by the time he had finished his question, his guest had vanished.

"See ya…" he muttered as he sat down at the bar. "I have a feeling things are gonna get _really_ weird in a few decades."

* * *

January 17th, 2038

* * *

"Hey Kai!"

"That's _dad_ to you, Ruka!" the now middle-aged Kai hollered from the kitchen.

"Someone's at the door, says he needs to talk to you!"

"I'm a little busy!" he shouted, long cooking chopsticks poised over a pan of sizzling taco meat, nearly ready to meet a bed of rice. "Who is it anyways?"

"Um, some tall European-looking guy carrying a - what is that thing? A coffin?"

The chopsticks fell into the pan without a second thought as Kai sprinted toward the door, slightly winded by the time he reached it.

The pale pallbearer spoke. "It is time."

Kai nodded and continued to pant.

Not two seconds later, Haji's eyes fell on the two young women standing behind his old acquaintance, two identical faces with a unique elfin quality, due to the combination of their mother and father's features.

For once, Kai could tell what Haji was thinking.

_They look just like Diva, after she took Riku's face._

Haji might have noted some mixed feelings toward the girls, had there not been more pressing matters at hand.

The arrival of Saya's elusive companion sent the whole house into chaos for the next half-hour as they prepared for the drive to the tomb.

Kai was hastily filling the largest lunchbox he could find, while his wife stood nearby.

Fifteen years prior, Kai had been dismayed to find that his beloved Colt M1911 was in need of maintenance and ammunition. Civilian possession of firearms being unlawful in his country, he had no choice but to turn to the local yakuza for the necessary goods and services, and consequently, came in contact with Mao Jahana. It didn't surprise him one bit that the ruthless, and often frightening young woman had recently taken her aging father's place as head of the Jahana crime syndicate.

Back in high school, Kai had given Mao the cold shoulder immediately following a second-date, backseat conquest, and subsequently lost all interest in her. But in the years following, Kai had developed a peculiar appreciation for dangerous, emotionally wounded women, and Mao, a mob boss still bitter from an ugly divorce with Okamura, fit that bill rather nicely. Mao, for her part, had been cured of her love of _real_ bad-boys by her profession, thus the vastly matured, non-smoker family-man (who still rode a motorcycle, as it should be noted) was such an ideal mate that she was willing to overlook his ungracious behavior in high school.

Naturally, they soon found themselves to be in love, moved in together, had a son and got married, in that order.

Mao leaned into her husband's field of vision. Once a fool but never blind, she was somewhat apprehensive about the arrangements that had been made for Saya to live with them.

"Kai, we need to talk."

"I'm busy…"

"Look, I may have been an idiot back then, but even I could see that there was something between you and Otonashi."

"What?!" A rice ball shattered on the floor.

"I mean you had a serious thing for her!"

Kai was speechless for several seconds. "Where are you even getting this? She was my little sister!"

"Who you had a bizarre obsession with!"

Another pause. "She was the only living being that could save the human race from being destroyed by monsters! Of course I was obsessed with her! We all were back then! I was no more obsessed with her than David, or – or – you!"

She scowled at him. "Look, lie to yourself all you want, all I'm saying is that – if your priorities aren't straightened out yet, they better get that way quick, because if there is even a hint that you're thinking about pulling a _Woody Allen_ on me, I will dump your ass so fast you wont know what hit you, 'cause there is no way in hell I would stick around long enough for people to feel sorry for me!"

Kai glared off into space for a few seconds.

"Are you done spouting random crap? Haji looks like he'll blow a fuse if we don't leave in the next two minutes," he grumbled irritably.

"Yes, thank you," Mao said with deceptive sweetness.

Her husband resumed his previous occupation filling the large bento, and she made her way into the living room, finding her nieces-in-law standing close together, both hovering over a cell phone, which, upon their step-mother's entrance, was promptly hidden behind one of their backs.

Mao's eyes narrowed as she examined the guilty countenance of the two teenage girls, who were in fact grown women in their early thirties.

"What are you two doing?" she interrogated.

The two Queens shot nervous glances at each other.

"Nothing," they answered simultaneously.

"Nothing, eh?" One arm extended out, palm up. "Give me the phone," she demanded sternly.

The twins knew better than to defy her, and Akahana reluctantly handed over the device.

With the tap of a few buttons, Mao had navigated her way to the _outbox, _and looked over the message that had been sent a few seconds ago, taking note of the contact.

Her arms folded across her chest. "Alright, what did he bribe you with?"

"Motorcycles," Akahana answered timidly.

"WHAT!?" Mao roared. "Ooo! I am going to _kill_ that son of a bitch!"

"Well it's not like we can get killed or crippled in a crash," Ruka retorted.

"And it's not like that ever stopped dad!" added Aka.

"Girls, we've been over this, no freakin motorcycles!"

They shot a pair of dismayed glares at their Stepmother. "You know, just because we _look_ like we're sixteen, doesn't mean you can boss us around."

"The hell I cant!"

"Yeah, well, as soon as Saya's adjusted to life here, we're moving back into our place!"

"Yeah, we're only here because we owe her for saving us from that crazy guy when we were babies."

While it had been some years since they had been made aware of and come to terms with various events that occurred before they were born, including their mother's unfortunate death and far more tragic life, neither had been told of Saya's attempt to murder them as infants.

Kai strode into the room, effectively diffusing the argument. "C'mon, let's go. Look, Haji's already sitting in the car. Aka, Ruka, you two get her room ready."

"Awww!"

"There isn't enough room in the car anyway, and make your little brother do his homework when he gets back."

* * *

It was already dark by the time he stepped out of the car. The moon was nearly full, and the tropical humidity lingered in the air along with a shadow of the afternoon's sweltering heat.

Kai leaned out of the driver's side window. "Go get her, bro," he cheered.

Haji gave a silent nod, and the rest of the party remained in the car.

Mao turned to her husband. "After all these years, you're just gonna wait in the car?"

Kai glanced at the departing Chevalier. "This is _his_ moment. He's a good sport just for inviting us."

Haji approached the stairs, his calm expression belying his pounding heart. He had ascended these stairs many times over the last few decades, and each time he made the pilgrimage was in desperate anticipation of this moment.

_Saya._

Little by little, the tomb appeared at the top of the stair, his most recent floral offering standing sentry before it's massive stone door. Haji savored the feeling of each step as he approached, each bringing him closer to the woman for which he lived and breathed, but was stopped suddenly by a disconcerting realization. His superior senses told him that he was not alone.

Common sense left no doubt in his mind as to who it was.

* * *

Please review!


	2. China Girl

... (on a separate line) = Flashback

* * *

No other grave-robber, Solomon mused, could ever make off with such splendor as this…

It's been a few weeks since he brought her to their new home, still wrapped in her silken cradle, and a few days since she emerged from it.

Their house is lavish, a palace nestled snugly in some remote emerald mountain range. They sit side by side on an elegant terrace, both holding wineglasses. He smiles triumphantly as he watches her sip at the blood, eyes lulling in guiltless pleasure as the thick nectar flows over her tongue.

_She'd finally be free from all that faux-human nonsense._

She turns to him once her glass has emptied. "I -" she begins softly, "I'll never remember anything, will I?"

"No Saya, you wont. Amnesia always follows the end of a Queen's hibernation. It's something we've been through together many times," he lies coolly.

"You were taking care of me for all that time?"

"Of course."

She smiles. "Why? Why do you do it?"

"Why, because I'm you're husband."

Her eyes widen and she gasps. "My husband?"

"Yes."

She spends a moment thought. "But you don't even sleep in my room."

"Well, first of all, I don't sleep," he chuckles.

Her giggle fades to that sweet smile he has so longed for.

"You've been so good to me. I don't know how I can ever…"

She stops mid-sentence and slowly leans toward him, wide, trusting eyes fixed on his until their lips meet, fleeting affectionate peck transforming into a deep passionate kiss.

_I wonder if she really tastes like that._

Later that night, he is whiling away the lonely sleepless hours when he looks over his shoulder to behold a radiant vision dressed in white lace, eyes locked on his as she makes her way toward him, her spine-tingling stare making a clear statement of carnal surrender…

_Better not think about that part now._

Two years later, their children are born. She is happy in her new life, a doting wife and loving mother instead of an emotionally scarred murderess.

He watches from down the hall as she approaches the nursery, and appearing in the doorway to block her entrance with an ardent embrace.

"Solomon," she giggles, "it's time for their bottle…" her entreaty fades to an erotic moan as his hands slide up her thighs, lips gently caressing her collarbone. "Solomon -" she sighs.

That's when the window shatters, when undeniable inevitability declares war on fantasy.

_There'd be no avoiding it. He'd find her sooner or later…_

"Saya!" the loathsome intruder exclaims.

Solomon's lips break away from her skin. "Do you mind? My wife and I were about to enjoy some consensual intimacies."

The unwanted guest extends his hand. "Saya, quickly, come with me."

Her eyes have expanded to a doe-like wideness, and she clings to her _husband's _arm like the fragile, helpless damsel she now assumes herself to be.

"It seems she doesn't want to go with you," Solomon declares smugly.

"Who - who are you?" she asks.

"I am Haji," he states matter of factly, "your Chevalier and servant."

"Ha-ji," she murmurs.

"Saya, Solomon is not your husband," the intruder explains as he produces a dagger, "he kidnapped you during your long sleep, and has kept you hidden from me so you would not receive my blood and recover your memories," he makes a deep slit in his grotesque claw, "so he could replace your past with his lies," he extends the bleeding limb to her.

"You're blood will bring back my memories?"

"Saya, don't tell me you believe this nonsense," Solomon interrupts. "This man is your enemy," he shoots a venomous glance at Haji, "he wants you to be miserable."

"But I feel like I've seen him before."

"Of course you do, he has tried to hurt you many times in the past, and no doubt now plans to poison you with his blood."

Her eyes dart back and forth between the two men.

"Saya, you take this stranger's word over that of mine, your own husband?"

"Saya, don't listen to him. I have been searching for you for years, as have Kai and the others."

"Kai?"

"Solomon has been lying to you ever since you woke up, he has abducted, manipulated and deceived you so he could make you his whore."

"Now, sir, you have gone to far," Solomon says icily as his hand becomes a blade and the battle begins, theduel quickly migrating outside, where it belongs.

Solomon returns a few minutes later, his face and suit now with a strangely even coating of blood spatter. He finds Saya cowering in the corner, and kneels beside her.

"Is he gone?"

"Yes."

"I got such a strange feeling around him," she looks up at her _husband _with questioning eyes.

"Shhh. He will never bother us again."

He holds her tightly against him, reiterating two and a half years worth of lies. The seeds of doubt have been sown, and he knows that he must immediately stamp out the shoots before the vines tear apart the paradise he has built.

Solomon's eyes opened, and daydream faded to the sound of chirping crickets, and the sight of an Okinawan-style tomb in the foreground of a hillside jungle. No matter how vividly he imagined it, somehow reality always managed to creep into that fantasy. He knew all too well that were he to steal the sleeping Queen, no matter how far he whisked her off to, no matter how secluded he made their nest, Haji would never stop searching for her, and immortality would insure that he would eventually find her and exercise his uncanny ability to, from Solomon's perspective, ruin everything.

But his reasons for abandoning that course of action were not just due to an assurance of Haji's interference, or it's being so morally wrong, though he did prefer the idea of winning her heart as opposed to hijacking it.

No, the main reason was because he was not willing to settle for a brainwashed shadow of her former self.

_Wouldn't it be magnificent to be the recipient of all that incredible passion, and to be the one to heal her battered spirit?_

He would take no less than Saya as she was thirty years ago, as she was when he fell in love with her, and he wanted the security and satisfaction of the knowledge that she'd left Haji behind of her own free will.

However, he was fully aware that some adjustments would have to be made in terms of wooing. That night in New York proved that she was not the sort of woman to be won by aggressive courtship. A new strategy was needed.

_It's fairly clear that the way to Saya's heart is through her family and her cause._

_I have spent thirty years gaining the trust of her family and allies, of helping her brother raise Diva's children, god, even helping the damned Red Shield. That's more than Haji's done; he simply vanished into thin air until an hour ago. But I will do whatever it takes._

Determined as he was to have her, for the first time since his early days with Diva, Solomon found himself harboring a devotion that went beyond simple desire.

_Love me back or not, I will be her Chevalier, if serving her is all she will allow, then that is better than not being in her life at all. Even if I am never rewarded, I will be her Chevalier… but… that doesn't mean I wouldn't prefer to fulfill that oath in a more intimate context. _

He was never was one for cognitive dissidence.

Considering what he had been three decades prior, it seemed ridiculous that he could feel any more than an impersonal lust toward Saya, as Diva had for Riku. But, absurd though it seemed, Solomon really did love Saya. However hastily it began, and however recklessly it was shown, Solomon felt that love just as keenly as Haji did.

An impetuous, sanguine man will love impetuously and sanguinely, and a diffident, pragmatic man will love diffidently and pragmatically. But they both love.

"_I don't have time left for sweet dreams about a future together…"_

_That is what she said… She does want to be with me, it's now only a matter of convincing her that it is really possible… assuming Haji doesn't suddenly grow a spine. _

For all intents and purposes, Solomon had been dead during the Met incident, and thus knew nothing of the evening's heartfelt revelations, or that long-deferred kiss.

A half hour earlier, his _nieces_ had fulfilled a well-paid request to inform him whenever Haji appeared to announce Saya's impending return. Upon receiving the message, he had rushed to the Miyagusuku tomb, with the full intention of participating in the proceedings whether her first Chevalier liked it or not.

_I am her Chevalier as well. Haji will simply have to accept that, and accept my presence in her life._

He smiled when he heard the approaching click of Haji's boots, a sure signal that that Saya was awake, and would soon emmerge. Anticipating that he would soon be reunited with his beloved, he pulled a small comb from his pocket, ran it through his hair, his smile and confidence fading slightly as he recalled that he had gained an additional disadvantage in comparison to his rival.

Both men had generally been considered extraordinarily handsome in the past and they were usually taken to be equally good-looking, though in very different ways, classical versus exotic, sparkle versus smolder.

Unfortunately, _classically handsome_ was a card Solomon could no longer play, a necessary side effect of his surviving his encounter with Saya's blood, thirty years ago.

…

His eyes opened, but everything remained out of focus. After several minutes of complete disorientation, he began to perceive his surroundings. He could feel the oxygen mask strapped tightly to his face, blowing slow puffs of air into his nose and mouth, making both uncomfortably dry, and subtle currents of warm water surrounding him made him realize that he was floating in a corpse corps development tank. His eyes finally focused on the only person in the room.

Nathan was standing in front of him, wearing an amused smirk and an uncharacteristically tasteful business suit, albeit with a purple shirt and magenta tie.

Solomon perceived the high-pitched screech of compressed air moving, and realized that the tank was slowly draining. The water level sank, lower and lower, his body floating listlessly down to the bottom along with it until the oxygen mask was pulled from his face.

He was curled up on the floor of the tank, wet and naked, shivering violently when he felt a towel being laid across his back.

True to form, Nathan coupled his first bit of useful information with teasing. "You've been floating in that stuff for almost three weeks, what's it like to be a pickle?"

Nathan began blotting away the liquid on his brother's skin. "Speaking of pickles, lets get you some undies, kay?" he giggled as he laid his nearly-limp brother out on the floor and placed each foot into the hole of a pair boxers, and then hiked the tacky, leopard print undergarment up to his waist.

Solomon was in no position to complain.

The elder Chevalier threw the thick flannel quilt around his shivering brother, picking him up almost tenderly, and tucking him into the bed at the other end of the room, as if he were a sick child. Now wrapped in warm covers, the shivering tapered off.

"Have you heard anything of Saya?" Solomon rasped weakly, his voice not much stronger than a whisper.

"She's safe under the care of the Red Shield, and should be going into hibernation any day now."

The crippled Chevalier attempted to sit up in bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I need to see her before she sleeps."

"Cool you're jets _Romeo, _you are still in pretty bad shape, if you're anything like my poor James, you'll be too weak to do _anything_ for at least two months."

He collapsed back into bed with a disappointed sigh. "She'll be asleep by then," the hoarse whisper was beginning to clear into his normal voice.

"Oh, thirty years isn't that long, trust me, and by then you should be _almost_ good a new."

"How can I be alive? I - "

Nathan smirked and interrupted. "How do you know this isn't the afterlife?"

"Because if this was heaven," Solomon chuckled in spite of himself, "you'd be Saya, and if it was hell -" he stopped mid-sentence.

"If this was hell – what?" Nathan asked curiously.

"I'd rather not say, I don't want to give you any ideas."

Nathan laughed. "You think Amshel saved you just so we could torture you? Evil notwithstanding, he was far too practical to do such a thing."

"Why did he save me?"

"Because he wanted you to mate with Saya, producing more Queens. He said something about wanting chiropteran stems cells or some such nonsense, so he decided to save you, to use corpse corps grafts to replace the flesh that crystallized, including your left arm and shoulder, part of your head and face, and your legs at the knees."

Solomon weakly turned his head to look at the mirrored closet door by the bed and let out a soft groan at his reflection. There was a huge, blood-encrusted scar running down the left side of his face, starting at the chin, curving towards his ear and then up along his hairline before cutting fairly symmetrically back across his scalp.

His hair had been shaved off completely during the operation, but had grown back slightly. The right side had grown in his original pale, golden blond; the left side had grown in black as a moonless midnight.

"Amshel said you'd have to stay out of the sun, I believe he neglected mentioning that to James because he felt he had outlived his usefulness, he just put the grafts on him to see if it would work. From what I understand, he's used a higher-grade of corpse corps meat on you, but eventual thorn is still more than a possibility, after all, he only intended for you to live long enough to get between Saya's legs." Nathan's tone suddenly went from light-hearted to downright jubilant. "Amshel's dead, by the way," he paused, and spoke again, now more somberly. "I suppose I don't need to tell you about Diva." He looked his younger brother in the eye. "You feel it, don't you?"

"She has died, hasn't she?" There was a genuine note of sadness in Solomon's voice.

"Yes. Even a traitor like you isn't immune to the cold, empty feeling one experiences when first becoming an _orphan-widower_. But don't worry, like all other wounds for our kind, it fades with time. Trust me, I know." Nathan paused. "And you ass! You just _had _to kill James, didn't you?! Just when I was making progress with him! I heard him taunting you down there, that whole Salome thing! He was either referring to the Strauss opera or the Oscar Wilde play or both! If that's not a declaration of _not-hating-Nathan_, I don't know what is!"

"Surley when you released me, you knew I would end up fighting him."

Nathan squinted as he smirked. "Shut up," he chirped dismissively.

"Why did you _really_ let me go, Nathan?"

Nathan gave a distinctly sinister chuckle. "Trust me, someday, it'll all make sense."

"Why are you helping me now?"

"Same reason, and besides, come now! What kind of question is that? Strangely enough, I am kind of fond of you and we may not be blood-brothers, but we are blood relatives."

"What do you mean, _not blood-brothers_?"

Nathan smirked yet again. "Use your head, Solomon. You know Saya's mission was to kill _all_ of us, then doesn't it strike you as strange that she's chilling in Okinawa even though I'm still alive."

Solomon's eyes narrowed in thought. "So you joined them too…"

"Good lord no! Now you're just projecting, and Haji isn't _that _cute. No, Saya thinks, nay, is absolutely sure that I'm dead. She sliced me clear in half with her blood-coated sword."

"That's impossible, you would be dead."

"Saya's blood had no effect on me," Nathan declared smugly.

"That's impossible."

Nathan pursed his lips in irritation. "Damn it, you must know by now that I _hate_ giving straight answers, but if you absolutely insist - Saya's blood didn't kill me because I am not Diva's Chevalier."

Solomon looked at his brother questioningly. "That's impossible."

"Think of a different word, will you! Jeez, did you loose your vocabulary along with your arm and legs?"

"But what you're saying really isn't possible. I saw your transformation."

Nathan rolled his eyes and gestured to himself. "Drama queen! Hello!?"

"But you are obviously a real Chevalier, if Diva didn't make you, who did?"

Nathan let out what sounded like a love-struck sigh. "She had a beauty that only a Queen could be worthy of, Saya and Diva inherited _something_ of her looks."

"You're saying that you were made by their mother? You would have to be thousands of years old."

"Oh, I see your deductive reasoning has returned to you, and for your information I am around nine-thousand eight hundred – I lost the exact count a few millennia ago."

Solomon stared at his nurse incredulously. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"Mmm-hmm. May I live forever and never taste another drop of blood or hear another note of music if I'm lying," Nathan paused as he pulled out a blood pack. "Now shut up, and take your medicine."

Solomon did as he was told, and suckled at the tube, eyes wandering around the room, briefly passing over, but not really attending to what appeared to be a very large ebony chest sitting next to the now-empty tank.

It was several minutes before he spoke again. "What of Haji?"

"Actually, I don't know. The Metropolitan Opera House collapsed on top of him. As far as I know, he is missing and presumed dead."

Much as the notion of Haji's demise pleased him, Solomon knew that it wasn't so. Their duel at the Zoo had been concluded by Haji being crushed beneath several tons of boulders, but he had recovered in under an hour. If Haji could recuperate from that so quickly, then surely he could survive a building collapsing on him.

Nathan nodded thoughtfully. "You think Haji survived, that's good to know."

"How would _you_ know what I'm thinking?"

"You don't live as long as I have without learning how to read people, and besides, if you really thought

he was dead, you'd be cackling like victorious villain." Nathan sighed melodramatically. "I'm afraid you're still second in line for Saya's hand." Nathan paused and grinned. "But I do know of an aspect of chiropteran biology that should level the playing field a bit."

…

Solomon smiled to himself. _Perhaps Nathan's theory will prove useful someday, but we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. _

Haji slowly approached the tomb, but stopped dead in his tracks a few feet shy of the door, and spoke in a menacing tone that he seemed to reserve only for conversing with Solomon.

"Leave, now."

It was more a warning than a threat.

"I cannot do that," the soft lyrical tones came from behind the tomb, Solomon Goldsmith finally making his entrance a few seconds later.

Haji seemed to either not notice, or not care about Solomon's change of appearance.

"Leave. Now."

Now it was a threat.

"That will not happen."

"Get out," Haji growled, a hint of frustration intermingling with the obvious anger.

Something about Solomon always seemed to stifle Haji's famous patience. Haji was by no means a confrontational man, but that charming, confident, covetous blond somehow always managed to activate a protective streak that bordered on possessive, resulting in outbursts of violence.

"I _will _take my place at her side, as her Chevalier."

"You are not her Chevalier. You are a traitorous libertine."

Solomon laughed briefly at the quip before making his rebuttal. "Whether or not I am her Chevalier is not for _you_ to decide."

"I will not let you take her. She is all I have."

"Well then, that makes two of us."

Haji tore the bandages from his chiropteran hand while simultaneously charging his opponent.

He was unable to get in a hit.

Solomon re-appeared a few feet away. "Can't we just skip this part?" he groaned. "We always end up punching hole's in each other's suits, and on this occasion, I think we'd both prefer to remain presentable. She is a Queen, after all."

Haji flew at him again, and was dodged in much the same manner.

_What a pathetic creature you are,_ thought Solomon, _you're obviously in love with her, but the closest you come to showing it is trying to kill me._

"Fine, if you insist, I'll just have to best you for the _third_ time," Solomon declared coolly as his right hand transformed into his weapon of choice.

The two men shot in a collision course toward one another, sword and claw poised to rip each other to shreds as soon as they met, but under a millisecond before any skewering or amputation could occur, the two men, acted upon by an as-yet invisible force, were hurled backwards, Haji hitting the stone tomb with a flinch-inducing crunch, Solomon sailing over the low border wall and skidding into the mud and surrounding foliage.

A shrill voice immediately sounded.

"That's enough you two!" The effeminate Chevalier punctuated his demand with a clap, as the two men struggled to right themselves, Haji contorting slightly as a few broken ribs were repaired, Solomon picking some leaves and twigs from his hair.

Haji and Solomon stared as Nathan Mahler casually approached, and stood between them.

"Honestly, there's never a dull moment with you two, you're like a cat and a dog in more ways than one! And while watching you two squabble is rather entertaining, it's hardly appropriate for this occasion! We all know that you both love Saya, but my god, are you both such macho jerks that you actually think _who gets Saya_ will be decided by you fighting _each other_! Of all the asinine notions! You claim that you live to serve her and yet you wont allow her to have a mind of her own! For all your self-righteous oaths of loyalty, you insist on treating her like a brainless child! The time will come for this matter to be settled, but that time is clearly not now!" Nathan exclaimed.

He turned to Haji. "Now then, _Fido_, will you please recognize that Solomon does have a right to be here, even if you don't recognize him as Saya's Chevalier, this is public property, and you have no legal authority to tell him to leave, and besides, he's right. It's not for you to say whether he is Saya's Chevalier or not."

Nathan turned to Solomon. "And _Whiskers_, will you please recognize that if you _insist _on calling yourself  
_Saya's Chevalier_, then that would make Haji your _older brother. _As Saya's eldest, and thus senior Chevalier, it is Haji's right to preside over her awakening."

The rival Chevaliers still could barely look at each other.

"Come now gentlemen, who's gonna step up and be the bigger man?"

Nathan's appeal to their sense of competition appeared to have been successful, and Solomon finally spoke.

"I guess _someone_ has to be the adult in all of this," Solomon sighed. "I'll offer you a compromise, Haji. I give you my word, I will not make contact with her until her memories have fully returned."

_I suppose it's no big deal. What's a few more weeks, after thirty years? And it probably wouldn't hurt to move toward Haji's good side. Constantly exchanging blows with her friend would probably not be conducive to courtship. Plus, if I am publicly reasonable and agreeable toward him, any continued hostility on his part would be unflattering to him, and thus help my suit._

_I'd be the good guy. _

Haji simply continued to glare.

"You must understand that to never see her again is not an option for me." Solomon paused. "I will keep away until she remembers who I am. That is my final offer."

Haji hesitated. "Agreed," he reluctantly muttered. "But if you break your word, if you try to abduct her, if you try to take advantage of her amnesia in any way, I will kill you."

Solomon narrowly avoided laughing out loud. Every time he and Haji had dueled in the past, Solomon had the upper hand. Though arguably by default, he was always the victor.

"Very well," he chortled.

Nathan clapped again. "Well done, now, shall we get on with this?"

"Nathan, I don't recall either of us agreeing to your presence," Solomon groaned.

"And yet hear I am. Someone has to keep you two from killing each other."

Haji appeared to ignore them as he paced over to the entrance of the tomb, and pushed the heavy stone door aside as if it were nothing more than a shoji screen. Solomon moved to follow, but was stopped by Nathan's firm grip on his shoulder.

"Don't push your luck," the ancient Chevalier warned. "Of the two of you, I'd wager that you've seen her naked more recently. It's his turn to get an eyeful."

* * *

Reviews are inspiring!


	3. Blood of Awakening

The musty, dank smell of the tomb was overpowered by that of the pungent amniotic fluid pooled on the floor beneath the cocoon. Any human would have called it putrid, but to a Chevalier, this was the sweet fragrance of reunion.

There she was, still wrapped in the fibers that had been her cradle for the past decades. For a moment, he wondered if his instincts had been mistaken, if perhaps it was not yet time.

But he could hear it. Fingers clawing from the inside like an unborn chick struggling to hatch. Haji's instincts were not only correct, they had gotten sharper, so attuned that he could apparently tell she was going to awaken, even before it happened.

She had emerged four times in the past, and he had been present at all but one.

The first time had been at the Goldscmidt family crypt. Thirty years prior, he had watched her slowly fade away, spending more and more time asleep, until it was heartbreakingly clear that she would soon lose consciousness altogether. But the despair was mitigated by a tacit understanding between them, knowledge based on intimacy and instinct that told them both that this would not be a permanent separation. The years following her first interment were the hardest of his life, next to those following the Vietnam massacre, a constant struggle to keep faith, a struggle that often resulted in visits to the crypt, so that his doubts might be lulled by her heart-warming heartbeat.

It was during just such a visit that he had received the happiest shock of his life, when he discovered his beloved friend in a weak, but conscious heap in the churchyard, his initial tearfully ecstatic embrace returned by a prompt bite to his neck.

He was so elated to see her alive that he wasn't even particularly phased by her having no idea who he, or she herself was. However, it was only a few weeks until it all came flooding back, during a battle in which Amshel Goldsmith had tried to capture her, no doubt with the aim of acquiring her as a test subject. Haji supposed that fighting Amshel had reminded her of when the evil Chevalier had stood between her and immediate vengeance on Diva, just after the Zoo massacre.

Her next period of sleep was easier to endure despite it's being abnormally long, but her awakening in 1961 was fairly similar, only this time, he knew what to expect, and thus, rousing her took on a distinct, ceremonial quality. Not long after, like in 2005, she was coerced into fighting long before she understood why, her memories were particularly slow in returning, locked away for almost a year. They were finally awakened during a dramatic battle aboard an airborne plane, which had ended with Haji pinned beneath a pair of slavering chiropterans on the floor of the aircraft, and he had escaped from the checkmate position by launching some nearby debris into the control panel for the bomb bay doors. He supposed that watching him plummet down into the night air had evoked the memory of watching him fall to his death in 1883.

The third awakening – the forced awakening - if he could have wished that memory erased from his mind, he would have. When the Red Shield proposed that she be forced awake in order to deal with a recent rash of chiropteran attacks in Southeast Asia, he had willingly provided them with his blood despite a looming feeling of impending calamity.

What followed would be the worst night of his life.

He had spent countless hours dwelling on why he had done it, why he had given them his blood, and concluded that it wasn't out of devotion to the cause. It was out of the same emotion that always seemed to be the root cause of reckless actions in a Chevalier.

Loneliness had been the downfall of several of his chiropteran brethren, and was very nearly his own, having nearly been killed by his friend, and then nearly dying from sheer lack of will to live.

The months immediately following were dominated by a soul-withering combination of guilt and loss, and occasional grasping attempts at escape, leading to further self-hatred. He believed that Saya was lost to him forever, and the small hopeful notion that this wasn't so was always accompanied by the conviction that he didn't deserve to be in her presence, blaming himself for what had happened.

In the end, it was one realization that brought him back to a rational existence. Feeling responsible for harming a loved one out of thoughtless impulse, and for causing an untold number of innocent deaths… he finally knew how Saya had felt ever since that Sunday in 1883.

Somehow, it was easier for him to carry on, knowing that she had borne such feelings for so long, that just as she continued to do her duty, so too must he.

But by then, the trail to Saya's resting-place had gone cold, until he received a tip that Saya was in Japan. He knew, logically, she had been entrusted to someone in the American military. American military… in Japan… he headed for Okinawa.

Unfortunately, the leads stopped there, and in terms of her most recent awakening, he had seen her emerge from a planter-box of pink new-guinea impatiens instead of her cocoon, a mortified blush on her face instead of an innocent smile.

A quartet of long-nailed fingers sprouted from the surface of the cocoon, soon joined by a thumb, and without thinking, he approached as the digits struggled to free their master. It was only a few seconds before he gave into the irresistible compulsion to touch them, his slender, cool palm brushing tentatively against her fingertips, only to immediately find his hand in a vice like grasp, reminiscent of an infant's grip.

Her fingers climbed their way up to his wrist, clinching tightly around it as if she were dangling off the edge of a cliff, and instinctively, he heaved the limb toward him as if rescuing her from the precipice.

Her other hand soon emerged beside it's twin, slowly stretching the breach in her silken prison until it found his other arm.

He braced his knee against the cocoon, pulling at the two exposed arms that held so desperately to his until the small slit gave way to an enormous tear, the sudden loss of tension causing them both to fall backwards. Haji found himself lying on his back on the damp floor, Saya sitting in his lap, wearing nothing more than five feet of dripping black hair, breasts dangling precariously close to his face, her lips formed into a smile that was even more beguiling.

He was inundated with conflicting instincts, either to scramble away as his lingering Victorian morality demanded, or to let loose the amorous impulses he had been stifling for over a century... But he was aware that neither course of action was appropriate at that time, and gently pushed her to a safer distance before standing, producing a red-jeweled dagger and closing his claw around the silver blade.

Haji had spent just under thirty years debating as to whether or not he should do this, if it would be better to deny her his blood and her tragic past along with it. Wouldn't she be better off without the trauma of decades of guilt, loss and bloodshed? She could be free of all that had passed before, free to spend the whole span of her conscious phase as she had spent her first year in Okinawa, knowing nothing save her happy life with the Miyagusuku family.

But he had come to the conclusion that it was not his place to erase her past. He might have asked her if it was what she wanted before she slept, but he had been _indisposed_ during the brief period between her being hell-bent on suicide and resigning herself to an impermanent sleep instead.

It was barely a second before she eagerly seized the bleeding hand, eyes alight as her lips met his palm, sipping at the blood that pooled there. He took in an awkward gulp of air as the hot, slick tongue began to lap at the wound. He knew that this was nothing more than an instinctual attempt at keeping the cut from closing, but as she continued for several seconds after it had healed over, he found it decidedly difficult to detach himself from the subtle sensuality.

He lightly cupped her cheek with his claw and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you," she mimicked.

He smiled, this strange post-awakening habit never failed to amuse him, he supposed it must have had something to do with reacquisition of language. At the same time, it was always extremely tempting to say a different three words to her, knowing she would definitely say them back, and probably not remember it. But, the idea of taking advantage of her, even in such a harmless way, was too distasteful.

He knew from experience that she would be disoriented for the next few days, but when her memories returned was anyone's guess. He surmised that, if she remained with the Miyagusuku's as planned, while she had ingested his blood, it could still be quite a while before that peaceful environment brought an end to her amnesia.

He walked across the tomb to his cello case, and pulled out a plastic shopping bag concealed inside it. Saya watched curiously as he unfurled a pale-pink silk robe, and stood as still and pliant as a well-behaved toddler while he dressed her.

Solomon paced outside the tomb door like a father outside of a delivery room until Haji finally emerged, carrying their beloved queen bridal style, and then proceeded to walk past the two spectators without a pause or backward glance.

Just as Solomon was about to protest to his being so intentionally left out, a pair of burgundy brown eyes met his from over Haji's shoulder.

Smiling lips cooed a greeting and he was compelled to follow.

Haji placed his lady on the ground shortly after reaching the bottom of the stairs, and after a few seconds of infantile wobbling, she found her balance.

Kai and Mao stood beside the car; neither seemed surprised to see Solomon descending the stairs just behind them.

"Uggguch!" Mao groaned through the hand that she had just placed over her nose and mouth. "She smells like a gym hamper full of week-old road kill."

Saya appeared to be impervious to the comment on her odor, staring downwards as she repeatedly curled her toes in the sand.

"Um, no seriously, is she _supposed_ to smell like that?" Kai added.

Haji gave a slight nod.

Saya's attention shifted away from her feet, and her gaze pointed toward her self-anointed Chevalier, eyes slowly rambling up and down his form.

For most of his life, Solomon was almost universally considered to be exceptionally handsome, so he knew _that_ look all to well. Ordinarily, he found such blatant ogling insufferable, but in this case, he allowed her stares to soak straight into his heart – and ego.

"So, if I remember straight, she's gonna be kinda out of it for a while, like a little kid," said Kai.

Barely attending, Haji nodded, as Saya's unmistakably flirtatious glances toward his rival had seized his attention like a scene of flaming roadside carnage.

His stoicism began to wane as Saya slowly made her way over to Solomon, until standing toe to toe with him, a heart-piercingly seductive stare fixed directly on his, her face still retaining a smile, though far less innocent.

She placed her hand on the center of his chest, just beside his heart. Of course, Solomon did absolutely nothing to discourage her attentions. On the contrary, he seemed positively enchanted.

It was fairly clear that _this_ Saya had no concept of self-control, and that of both Haji and Solomon began to wear dangerously thin as her fingers slowly traced down the center of Solomon's tie.

Even Solomon started to look a little uncomfortable when she reached the bottom button on his jacket, her hand still slowly advancing downward.

Nathan stood nearby and seemed quite enthralled by the scene that appeared to be progressing so rapidly to some sort of climactic outburst.

Fortunately, someone had the good sense to avert disaster.

"Yeah, yeah, we know you want some pants," Mao interjected, "but those belong to Solomon." She grabbed Saya's arm and pulled her toward the car. "Let's get you home, and we'll find you a pair of your very own – after a bath. Or three."

Saya let out a disappointed whimper and grasped at her self-anointed Chevalier, grabbing hold of his tie, causing him to let out a startled gag.

Nathan was thoroughly amused by this turn of events, in great contrast with Haji, his beloved having apparently forgotten him in more ways than one, leaving him not only mired in jealousy, but also embarrassed on behalf of his friend.

Saya seemed to suddenly realize her own superior strength, broke away from Mao's grasp and clung to Solomon like a heroine on the cover of a romance novel, until her attention was caught by something else.

"Hey Saya, you hungry? Look what I got," Kai hollered, shaking a large lunch box as if it were a bag of kibble.

His trick seemed to have the desired effect, catching Saya's attention.

He opened the bento and held it out to her. "Mmm, smells good. Yummy boiled eggs."

Saya's nostrils flared slightly and her lips parted in an excited smile. "Yummy boiled eggs," she murmured.

Just as she eagerly reached for the food, Kai snatched it away and the lunchbox was promptly placed on the back seat of the car, soon followed by Saya.

"Well, some things never change," Kai chuckled, his smile fading as he turned to Haji, knowing that his general expression of bemusement must have been hiding stronger feelings than most gave him credit for.

"Hey bro…" Kai couldn't think of anything else to say. "We'll keep you posted."

"Thank you," Haji managed in response.

Mao shut the door beside the feasting Queen.

Hurt though he was, Haji couldn't help but flash a smile when she glanced out the window toward him, a rice ball concealed in each cheek, actually looking at him for a few seconds, until her attention returned to his rival. Haji's smile faded.

Saya's hands pressed against the car window, clawing lightly at the glass separating her from her Chevaliers, and turning to gaze out the rear window as they drove off.

Solomon turned to his two remaining companions, making no attempt to hide his contentment. "Well then, I suppose I should be off."

Haji fought a rather compelling urge to rip that smile right off Solomon's face.

"Good to see you, Nathan, take it easy, Haji," he said cheerfully as he vanished into a very satisfied and optimistic blue streak.

Nathan turned to Haji.

"Don't take it _too_ personally, on some level, she really can't help it. You know, probably even better than I, that a Queen's awakening always begins in a state of instinct. If she wakes of her own accord, it'll be with childlike hedonism and curiosity, if roused unnaturally, it'll be in a state of animalistic panic, as you were so unfortunate as to discover, but in either case, they don't have much in the way of self-restraint."

Haji made no response. _That is exactly what makes it so upsetting, _he thought, _that when freed from her sense of propriety and obligation, what she really wants is... _

"Though, I do have to ask, after waiting all this time Haji, why are you just handing her off to the Miyagusukus?"

"She was happy with them. Happier than she was with me."

A real note of despondence managed to resonate over the wall of his characteristic flat affect.

Nathan grinned and placed a hand comfortingly on Haji's shoulder

"There, there. You're welcome to practice your pleasure-giving skills on me."

Haji jerked his shoulder out from under Nathan's hand.

"Oh, I just love it when they play hard to get!" Nathan declared flirtatiously.

Haji made his way toward the steps and Nathan called out to him again, though now with a far more serious air.

"You're blowing it, you know."

Haji stopped, wondering if that earnest tone could possibly indicate Nathan's having something helpful to say.

"Haji, it seems to me that you treat your feelings for her just like that claw of yours. You keep them wrapped up and hidden every minute of the day, but it's only in battle that you let the truth be apparent. I do realize that, in addition to your fundamental reserve, you grew up with Victorian cultural values, but the same goes for her, so it's unreasonable for you to assume that she'll take charge of a romantic relationship the same way she would a battle."

Haji said nothing.

"And after _that_ scandalous display, I'm sure I don't need to tell you of a Queen's inborn tendency to be attracted to her sister's Chevalier and vice versa." Nathan gave a brief giggle. "Can you honestly say that banging Diva never crossed your mind?"

Haji wasn't the sort to dignify impertinent comments with a response, but _that_ was just too offensive to go uncontested.

"It absolutely did not," he muttered vehemently.

Nathan laughed. "For some reason, I believe you, but keep in mind, that we're not all as in control of our instincts as you are."

Haji glared as Nathan continued. "Now then, lucky for you, Haji, Saya's knight in Armani armor at least _fancies_ himself a man of his word, so I'd imagine he will keep away for now. So, I strongly recommend that you make good use of this temporary _restraining order_, because I can say with absolute certainty that once he is free to do so, my brother is going to pull out all the stops when it comes to Saya, it'll be open season - regardless of your true feelings, you have no romantic claim on her at present, thus she's fair game. And remember, Solomon does have some serious advantages here, he's quite a smoothie when he wants to be, and considering her obvious self-loathing, I'd imagine that she'd be quite vulnerable to his sweet talk, plus, he has more money than _God, _and considering her upbringing, that could have more sway you'd like to think. But most important of all, there is one thing that only he can give her, something that you have absolutely no chance in hell at giving her yourself – judging by the current state of our species, if she ever gets pregnant, you can be absolutely sure that Solomon is the _real_ father."

Haji's fingers tightened into a fist.

"Mind you, you do still have several advantages over Solomon, thanks to his run-in with Saya's blood, you're now the better looking of the two of you, your history is far less dubious, and above all, you know her better… But that won't do you much good if you don't take some bloody initiative! Busting out of the _friend zone_ takes effort!"

Haji began down the stairs.

"Think about it, Haji. What do soldiers do when they return home, victorious?"

Haji still didn't answer.

"And that applies to you as well, you know. Settle down with her, or mark my words, she'll do it without you."

Nathan paused, and resumed in an unusually subdued tone as he followed. "Strangely enough, I can relate to your situation, so, here's a little insider info for you – the other player has an ace and when he puts it in the hole, Mr. Asexual BFF isn't going to stand much of a chance. You're going to need a stronger hold on her if you want to keep her through what's coming."

Nathan appeared by Haji's side and leaned to whisper in his ear. "But, confidentially," Nathan paused, "I'm rooting for _you_."

Nathan seemed to disappear into thin air, but his voice still echoed in Haji's ears.

"Saya has spent a long time married to her cause, but that's pretty much over now, so if I were you, I'd get off my ass if you don't want to watch your nemesis snag her on the rebound."

* * *

Reviews really do provide extra incentive to write more!


	4. I Know Something You Don't Know

Approximately three months later…

* * *

She watched as the morning sun rose up out of the ocean for the brief portion of the drive that took them within view of the beach. Saya, and her thirteen-year-old adoptive brother, George, sat in the backseat with their book bags in their laps

"Where're Kai, Aka and Ruka this morning?" Saya asked. She had taken on the habit of referring to her adoptive father by his first name, as did her adoptive _sisters_.

"Um, I think Kai took them to a doctors appointment. They'll be late to school."

"Oh."

In truth, all three were attending a Red Shield teleconference regarding some recent, unsettling information Lewis had managed to turn up. Over the past few decades, chiropteran incidents had been few and far between, but were still enough of a problem to keep the Shield in operation. During Saya's long sleep, Kai, being infallibly loyal and experienced in the field, had risen to third in command next to David. As for Diva's twins, skills acquired during their stint as kendo champions combined with the cultivation of their chiropteran powers by their uncles made them an obvious choice for de facto on-staff secret weapons in Saya's absence.

The car came to a stop at the monorail station.

"I've never ridden alone before," Saya commented to no one in particular.

"Sorry, but I don't have time to drive you all the way to school before _work_. George is only getting a free ride because his school's on the way."

"I understand," Saya nodded. As she scooted toward the door, she turned to face George. She had made an earnest effort to be friends with him, but she had yet to realize that he was making an equal effort to avoid her. Unknown to Saya, his evasive behavior was not due to his knowing that she was a blood-thirsty chiropteran; after all, he had grown up around Diva's twins. It was just that the myriad of lies and half-truths and subjects to be avoided made conversing with Saya mentally exhausting for the young teenager, especially when taken with his father's frightening allusions to what could happen if she wasn't brought to the truth gently.

"Have a good day at school!" Saya said cheerfully as she flung her arms playfully around him. "I could just hug you to death!"

The boy looked more generally uncomfortable than embarrassed as Saya slid out of the car and made her way to the platform. Once onboard, she found it to be especially crowded that morning; most of the passengers were standing shoulder to shoulder.

Saya clung to a rail, gazing inattentively at blurred scenery, when her face abruptly formed into a frown.

_What was that?_

_Did someone just touch my butt?_

_Yeah._

She was now especially sorry that she was alone today.

_Maybe it was an accident…_

_No. That was definitely not an accident._

…_Okay, what do I do?_

Ruka had once told her that the proper response was to hoist up the offending hand in order to publicly shame the guilty party, but she knew that neither of her _adoptive sisters _were known for avoiding conflict, on the contrary, they both seemed rather fond of making a scene every now and then._  
_Before she could settle on a course of action, the hand was abruptly snatched away, the groper's grunt making it clear that it was done forcefully by some third party.

Saya turned to face the commotion, expecting so find an irate dirty old man standing behind her, only to discover that he was actually no older than she assumed herself to be, and looked scared half out of his wits as he scampered to the back of the car.

"At that age, boys can hardly help themselves," a bystander, presumably the one who had confronted him, chuckled softly.

"Thank you," Saya managed along with a grateful bow.

At no point in their interaction did she ever look him in the face, half out of embarrassment, and half due to cultural norms concerning his being an older, and judging by the expensive-looking black suit, important stranger.

"Here, please take my seat, we wouldn't want _that_ to happen again, now would we?"

"Thank you, but no, I'm already obliged -"

"If your obliged, then why not sit as I've requested?" he said, his smile quite evident in his tone of voice.

"Thank you." She reluctantly took the seat.

A station came and went.

"So, you're on you're way to school?" he asked.

"Yes."

_He certainly is forward, this guy._

"Do you like it? Your school, I mean."

"Yes."

"The uniform suits you."

That comment made her more than a little uncomfortable. _I may have just traded one pervert for another… or… could it have been him to begin with?_

"Um, this is my stop," she said with yet another bashful bow, eager to remove herself from this awkward situation. However, she couldn't avoid coming in rather close proximity to him as she slid through the crowd on her way to the door.

She immediately took note of a strange, and somewhat unsettling physical response, her heart began racing, senses heightening, her entire body entering a state of non-specific physiological arousal.

She attributed this to embarrassment and nervousness.

Saya caught the stranger's smile out of the corner of her eye as she stepped off the train, and was suddenly seized by an intense, unexplainable urge to remain in his presence. But by the time she was able to recognize the feeling, the doors had closed behind her, and the stranger was now obscured by the crowd.

* * *

The Miyagusuku family was no longer quartered at Omoro. Though the pub was still in operation, Mao had insisted on moving into a _real _house, her considerable income making a much nicer residence possible, and because her risky profession required her to move often. Kai had agreed partially because the neighborhood surrounding Omoro wasn't as nice as it once was, but primarily because he had finally learned how to choose his battles wisely.

Saya was doing her best to study that afternoon, but the surprisingly obnoxious vocal exercises coming from the other room were not making it easy. The sound of the doorbell stood out amongst the singing, and caused Saya to look up from her homework.

"I'll get it!"

The front door was actually at the other end of the house from where she had been studying, but lately she had been going out of her way to be helpful.

_How could I ever repay them for adopting me, some complete stranger with absolutely no identity or past?_

She bounded into the front room, barely taking notice of Kai napping on the couch, and didn't bother to peek out the window before pulling the door open.

Saya's head tilted back slightly in order to find the face of the tall caller, but when she did, suddenly all thoughts of a standard polite greeting left her mind; indeed for those few seconds, she forgot not only how to speak, but how to breathe.

Her lips parted slightly and her eyes bore a look somewhere between dazed and awed. In that moment, the world seemed to pause around him, the young man was like an image, suspended in time.

His long, wavy black hair was gathered back in a blue ribbon, several chin-length tendrils draped carelessly about his face. He was uncommonly tall, with a slim figure clad in an elegant, yet curiously retro suit, unique due to it's slightly flared sleeves, and it's having coattails both in front and in back.

She found herself completely unable to estimate his age with any confidence; he could have passed for any where between his late teens to his early thirties. His face could be best described as distinctive, but in the most attractive of ways; his features initially struck her as biracial, though what combination she could barely guess. In her limited experience, his exceptionally fair skin and pale-blue eyes suggested that he was from somewhere in Europe, but there was something about him that struck her as having more _exotic_ origins, perhaps Middle Eastern.

Either way, she came to the same conclusion as so many had in the past.

_Oh my god, he's gorgeous!_

Saya's appraisal was made without a second's awkward hesitation, the implications no greater than if he had been a _real _stranger, since her judgment was no longer obstructed by decades of seeing him as something like a brother or as a herald of impending carnage and misery. He was simply an attractive young man who had just happened to fall into her life.

She would have never guessed that he was, at that moment, making a similar assessment of her as she had of him, admiring how her current appearance echoed back to the Saya of old, not just her general air of carelessness, but her long hair. Mao had been quite adamant that it should not be cut short again.

At least thirty seconds of mutual staring passed before she returned to her senses, glancing over her shoulder to find that everyone in the house, save George, was now standing in the room, watching intently for some indication of _awakening_.

Saya flushed in embarrassment at her absent-minded behavior, absolutely sure that whatever this young man was thinking of her, it was definitely something along the lines of her being a weirdo. If she had remembered how to read his subtle affect, she would have seen that he was actually quite happy to see her, and truly charmed by her blush.

"Oh, hey Haji!" Kai exclaimed, hopping up from the couch and making his way toward his guest.

_Haji_. Saya took note of the name.

"Saya, this is Haji." Kai turned to his guest. "Haji – Saya."

Kai, and indeed, almost everyone in the room felt that there was something profoundly absurd about what he had just said, the idea of introducing Saya to someone who had been her almost constant companion for decades.

"Haji is an old friend of mine – from – from work. Saya's the new addition to the family. Um, come on in bro, don't just stand out there in the rain!"

Haji obeyed his host and stepped into the house.

Kai turned to Saya. "We, uh," he paused, searching for the lie that they had previously settled upon, "according to the police report, even though you weren't carrying any I.D., you did have some sheet music for cello in your bag, I figured you must have played it, so we thought we'd get you one, but I don't know shit about cellos, so I asked Haji here, Haji's a great cello player by the way, to pick one out for you."

Haji sensed that this was his cue to shed the cargo on his back, an ordinary, black, hard-shell cello-shaped case, and proceeded to open it, revealing a shapely wood form, polished to a glassy-shine

"It's the best instrument to be had for a reasonable price," Haji said quietly.

_He has such a nice voice,_ she thought to herself, _soft but masculine._

"Um, the thing is - I don't remember how to play it."

Kai chuckled. "That's why Haji's gonna give you some lessons."

"Lessons?" she glanced at her teacher to be. "I don't know, I don't want to be too much trouble…"

Kai laughed again. "C'mon, it might help you remember something."

As hesitant as she was, the possibility of regaining some of her past combined with the prospect of spending time with such a desirable _new _acquaintance, made her nod her acquiescence.

"Well if it isn't my _dear _friend Haji!" came a squeal from beside the kitchen door.

Haji had actually been so preoccupied by Saya, he hadn't noticed Nathan standing at the other end of the room. Haji's features formed into an almost discernable expression of dismay.

Saya seemed intrigued by Nathan's greeting. _Nathan knows him?_

Of course, as far as Saya knew, Nathan Mahler was a family friend, who strangely, no one, save her adoptive sisters, ever seemed very pleased to see.

"Don't worry sweet cheeks, I'm not stalking you. I'm here for the twin's voice lessons," Nathan chirped.

_Stalking? Wait, could they be ex's or something? _She glanced at Haji again. _He is well groomed and a nice dresser… and… I guess he's too perfect to be straight._

"You know, speaking of voice lessons," Nathan continued, "Saya, I really wish I could convince you to join in, I'd bet that there's some beautiful music hiding somewhere in that beautiful throat! Don't you think so, Haji?"

Haji knew that strangely enough, Nathan was right. He could recall days long passed when Saya could often be caught idly singing to herself, and she even occasionally coerced him into singing duets with her on particularly boring afternoons. But Saya's singing voice seemed to have been permanently silenced, not coincidentally after the Zoo tragedy. Haji had always supposed that it reminded her of Diva, as he had observed their respective singing voices to be strikingly similar, though Saya's style was a good deal less extravagant.

Saya shook her head bashfully. "I never sing."

"Oh now that really is a shame!"

Nathan's attention appeared to shift back toward Haji, but before any cheeky comments could be made, Haji turned to address Saya.

"Shall I return tomorrow for your first lesson?" he asked softly.

For a long moment, Saya was silent, seemingly hypnotized by mysterious slate blue eyes. Eventually, she managed a dumb nod.

With that, Haji made his exit, and Saya immediately made her way to her room, suddenly desperate for a moment alone with her thoughts.

She sighed as she tossed herself onto her bed, and immediately found herself lost in her reverie on the strange feelings that the young man had so effortlessly inspired in her.

_It's strange, I feel almost like – like somehow, this guy is really… important. Almost like he's a crucial part of… I don't know… my destiny… Like a part I've been missing._

_Wait, isn't that what it's supposed to feel like when you fall in love at first sight? Does that mean I'm in love with him?_

* * *

The three Queens, though only two of them knew of their bearing this title, sat around the kitchen table, receiving their transfusions, Aka and Ruka whispering amongst themselves, while Saya pretended not to feel left out.

While she was rather fond of her _sisters_, in truth, Saya didn't feel as close to either of the twins as one might have supposed she would, mainly because of the obvious profound intimacy between them, Saya was beginning to realize that she was often the third wheel. Then there was also the matter of the unwelcoming silence she was always greeted with when walking in on their conversations. Between these two perceptions, it was impossible not to feel like an outsider. But, like George, it wasn't because they didn't like her, it was because half the things they had to talk about, couldn't be discussed in front of Saya, from their family history, to various events in their lives that would have identified them as being over sixteen.

Mao sat down at the table beside Saya.

"So, I take it you like your cello teacher."

Saya blushed slightly. "Um, yeah, I guess so."

"You should totally ask him out," Mao said casually.

Saya's blush deepened. "W-why would I do that?" she stuttered in a failed attempt at appearing disinterested.

"Oh, c'mon, we saw you at the front door, you were about two seconds away from drooling."

"I was not!" Saya retorted, reddening even further.

Mao shot her a stern, skeptical look, causing Saya to change her tune.

"Okay, fine! I admit it, he's _kind of_ cute."

The twins' only input to the conversation was their stifled laughter. It seemed to Saya that giggling was Akahana and Ruka's natural state of being. In truth, they weren't much more bubbly than an average young woman, it was just that from Saya's early days acting like a toddler, to now, with Haji's arrival, they were immensely entertained by the ironies of Saya's amnesia. It was the constant diversion of _I know something you don't know. _However, because their laughter was so frequent, Saya was often able to tune it out for the most part, as if it were the laugh track to a sit-com.

"Well, then ask him out, why don't you?" Mao said impatiently.

Saya struggled to regain her composure. She had spent enough time in society to learn that for a teenage girl to be _pressured _into dating by a responsible adult was a little strange.  
"Don't – don't you think he's too old for me?"

Aka and Ruka erupted into full on laughter.

"If you find him attractive, then who cares how old he is?"

Saya thought for a moment, "Yeah, but – I mean, a guy like that – he's totally out of my league."

"Oh, hush," Nathan chimed in, having invited himself into the room and the conversation, being in the habit of hanging around after the twin's voice lessons. "Honey, you are just as pretty as he is – as a matter of fact, when you're not sniveling, you're downright stunning."

_What was that supposed to mean?_ thought Saya. _Well, I guess if Nathan thinks I have a shot, then that probably means that at least Haji's straight, not that it would give me much more of a chance._

Yet more giggling from Aka and Ruka.

"See, even _Nathan_ thinks you're pretty!" Mao returned to her prodding. "So you should definitely ask Haji out."

Saya couldn't help but wonder why her adoptive mother was so insistent on this, knowing nothing of Mao's lingering insecurities about her husband. As a precautionary measure, Mao wanted to get Saya paired off with _somebody _as soon as possible, and she had decided that Haji was the most expedient candidate.

"I don't think Saya has _that_ kind of guts," Nathan declared.

"Well, at least flirt with him a little, Saya."

"Flirt with him?"

"Yeah." Mao nodded. "Look Saya, I'll tell you a little secret about men – they're all idiots," she paused, "no offense Nathan – but then again, - I'm not sure _you _count."

"None taken," Nathan returned casually.

"Anyways, all men are idiots, especially when it comes to romance, unlike _us_, they don't know the difference between their heart, their brain and their – you get where I'm going with this? Without a woman's encouragement and feedback, they don't know which way is up in a relationship, so if you want one, then YOU have to take charge, you got it?"

It was a few seconds before Saya spoke. "Um, this might be the amnesia talking, but - um, how do you, um, you know, flirt?"

Mao considered this for a moment. "You ever meet someone who was just a _little_ too friendly?"

Saya nodded, instantly thinking of the man on the train. Meanwhile, the twins had resumed whispering amongst themselves.

"Well, just act like that, for starters."

"You're grossly oversimplifying it," Nathan interjected.

"Yeah, well, she's a _beginner_!"

"We've got an idea!" Aka exclaimed as Ruka leaned toward Saya. "What you've gotta do is…" her voice faded into a whisper only intelligible to Saya.

"You can't be serious!"

"Hell yeah!" Aka insisted.

"Saya, if you don't do this, I swear I will lose all respect for you!" Ruka added, only half joking.

Saya blushed as she fussed with her I.V., made her excuses and made her way upstairs, her lips forming into a nervous, yet somehow mischievous smile as soon as she was alone.

Mao busied herself at the other end of the kitchen, but Aka, Ruka and Nathan remained around the table.

"Hmm," Nathan put his fist to his chin as he turned to the twins, "Interesting that _you two _are pressuring her to flirt with Haji. I was under the impression that Solomon already _bought _your loyalty. Could it be that he's rubbing off on you?"

"Hey, we just agreed to tell him when she woke up."

"That may be, but don't you think siding with Solomon was implicit in the deal?"

"We're not siding with anyone, ojisan," Aka insisted.

Strangely, the habit of referring to their late mother's Chevaliers as "ojisan" had developed rather recently. As children, they referred to all their uncles by their first names, Kai, Nathan and Solomon, but upon learning a little more about their immortal uncles, they began using "ojisan," as their shared odd sense of humor had decided that it bore an amusing double meaning of _uncle_ and _old-man_, as Solomon was over a hundred, and Nathan was, in all likelihood, the oldest living organism on the planet. Likewise, whenever they were talking in private, Saya was known as "obachan."

"Then why get involved?"

Ruka glanced at her sister before answering. "I don't know, I guess you could say we just want to stir things up a bit."

"Ojisan, keep in mind, we're thirty-two years old, we've moved back into our parents house and are going to high school _all over again_. The only fun thing about this arrangement is seeing how this Saya-Haji-Solomon thing plays out."

Nathan laughed heartily and patted the two girls on the head. "That's _my_ little Princesses!"

"And besides," Aka resumed, "Why does she have to choose anyway? Queens can make multiple Chevaliers, so from an evolutionary stand point, that suggests that Chiropterans are naturally polyandrous."

Nathan laughed and Mao decided to rejoin the conversation. "Good luck with that, girls, trust me, one husband is a pain in the ass, having two would be twice the variety in bed, yes, but I'll bet you anything it'd be quadruple the pain in the ass, and thus not worth it."

* * *

A pair of chairs were set up in the center of the deathly silent living room. The amnesiac and her life-long companion approached their seats, and began uncasing their instruments.

"What happened to your hand?"

"A mistake," he answered flatly. Saya correctly assumed that it wasn't something he wanted to discuss.

She let out a discreet sigh, attempting to pluck up her courage.

"I, um," she managed a half-forced grin, "that's a nice suit."

"Thank you." _You picked out the original, _he recalled fondly.

Haji began by playing a brief example, naturally, an excerpt from the Bach Cello Suite No. 5.

"You're -" she sighed in a slightly, but obviously exaggerated tone of admiration, "You're amazing, that was really beautiful."

He glanced up at her, brows ever so slightly raised into a look of subtle curiosity and confusion. She wasn't sure, but she thought she saw a smile too.

Haji was no idiot, he knew flirting when he heard it. This notion, combined with his finally getting a verbalized compliment from her as to his musicianship, was enough to make his year, to say the least.

"Thank you."

He motioned for her to pick up her instrument. As she opened her legs, she thought of how glad she was that she had changed into a pair of pants after school, but as soon as she grasped the bow, she experienced a flash of phantom sensation, so brief that all she was only able to perceive the distinctive feeling of restrictive clothing.

Haji watched tentatively as she shifted in her chair.

Saya inhaled deeply.

"_What you gotta do is…"_

She slowly exhaled, again, attempting to gather her courage.

"I'm not sure how to hold it, do you think you could show me?"

He gave a silent nod and exemplified the movement.

"Um, I mean, could you _help _me."

His brows raised even more when he realized what she meant, and he placed his instrument gently on the carpet, proceeding to kneel behind her chair, arms reaching around either side of her.

A chill spread throughout her body, a quarter due to his cool hands on her wrists, a quarter to his cool breath on her neck as he spoke softly over her shoulder, and half due to sheer excitement.

"Just hold the bow straight across the strings."

Saya didn't see the tiny smirk he displayed with that statement.

He guided her hands and the bow along with them, creating a tolerable sound. She smiled at her own progress, unthinkingly turning her head to show him her pleasure.

But the smile quickly fell as her eyes locked on his for what seemed like a much-too-short eternity.

Without thinking, she briefly glanced down at his lips, and was again enveloped in tactile flashback, this time the sensation of wet clothes clinging to her skin, hot tears streaming from her eyes and cool lips closing against hers.

It was only when she returned to her senses that she realized how near she had been to reenacting the mysterious notion, that all throughout her brief break from reality, her face had been slowly drifting toward his.

She blushed along with a shyly averted gaze. "I - I think I get it now."

* * *

"That's all for today!" called the coach. The dusty high school track slowed under the feet of the three Queens, and they, along with their classmates and the coach, made their way toward the gym.

"Who do you think could have sent it?" Saya returned them to a previous subject, something that was weighing quite heavily on her mind.

Aka and Ruka glanced at each other. "No idea."

"Sent what?" inquired someone standing nearby, and Saya was rather surprised to see that it was the coach.

…

It was, without a doubt, the biggest bouquet any of them had ever seen, the sort of gaudy arrangement that would have been more appropriate for a wedding or funeral, an enormous mountain of red roses intermingling with spires of purple gladiolus, baby's breath adorning the edge, like lace on a valentine.

The entire household stood in awe of the delivery.

"I don't suppose this is a belated anniversary gift," Mao muttered, though with a playful air.

Kai plucked the gilded white card from amongst the flowers and glanced at Saya.

"What's it say?"

"Read it yourself," he sighed as he placed the card in her hand.

_For __Saya_

_From ______

The color drained out of her face upon reading her name, but returned, and then some, when she read the enclosed message, written in elegant English script.

_Please consider this a token of my eternal devotion._

Her mouth hung wide open, a pair of giggles ringing in her ears as Aka and Ruka peered over her shoulder at the card.

…

"Oh, someone sent Saya a _huge_ bunch of flowers this morning."

"Wow," said the coach sounding genuinely impressed, her manner less like a teacher than a gossiping classmate, "barely at this school a month and you already have a secret admirer!"

"Somehow I don't think a high school guy would ever write the words _eternal _and_ devotion _in the same sentence," Aka commented.

"Well, if it's not someone from school, who could it have been?" asked the nosy adult.

Saya considered the implications of this statement. That logic in mind, she could think of only one person who might have sent it.

_It had to be him. Who else could it have been?_

She developed a curious warm, heavy sensation in the center of her chest.

"Saya?"

"Saya?"

"Earth to Saya?"

She shook her head, as if to snap herself out of it.

"Oh, sorry, just… thinking."

"About your _lover?"_ Ruka teased.

"No!" she paused. "Or, well, I just wish I knew who sent it." Several seconds passed before she worked up the nerve to pose the question that was now occupying her mind, and her heart, so completely.

"Do you think it could have been – do you think maybe it was, um, you know, Haji."

The twins glanced at each other, engaging in a brief telepathic dialog.

"_Should we tell her who it really was?"_

"_Better not, then she'll ask 'who the hell is that' and we'd have to tell her everything…"_

"Um, somehow I doubt that a music teacher could afford to send you something like that, I mean, a bouquet that – um – humongous, would probably cost like, fifty-thousand yen."

"Hmm…"

Saya was strangely disappointed to hear that.

"Who's Haji?" asked the coach, still walking beside them.

"Saya's cello teacher, who she's got the hots for."

"Give it a rest, will you!" Saya exclaimed.

They reached the gym door and the coach spoke again. "Miyagusukus, hang on a second."

The twins approached their teacher while Saya continued on her way.

"How's she doing?"

"Okay, still doesn't remember anything."

The older-middle-aged woman sighed. "Well, tell your dad that I was happy to help," she said, referring to her tampering with some school records on their behalf, at Kai's request. "If there's anything I can do, just give me a call."

"Sure thing, coach Kinjou."

"How long do you think she'll be going to school here?"

The twins thought for a moment and exchanged glances before Ruka spoke, "That kinda depends on when her memories come back -" she paused, and resumed in a rather grave tone, "or if _shit _starts _happening _again."

The coach nodded. It might have seemed strange that Kaori Kinjou was now so knowledgeable on a subject previously kept secret from her even by her best friend, but her inclusion was felt to be necessary, though not out of any need for her help. Shortly after Saya went into hibernation, Kai had taken on the grim task of informing all of Saya's non-Shield acquaintances that she had died due to complications from her anemia, but he didn't have the heart to tell this to Kaori, knowing that she would have not only have taken it extremely hard, but was close enough to Saya to be able to discern that she wasn't being told the whole story, which was exactly what she ended up getting.

The middle-aged woman's lips formed into a bittersweet smile.

"I guess there's no chance that she'd want to hang out with an old lady like me."

* * *

Of course, I am anxious to know what you all think of the various reunions, or anything else you feel like commenting on!

* * *


	5. Ninja Man

This story is now rated "M," this chapter contains moderate, gory violence, but no worse than what you'd see in the anime. Subsequent chapters will contain some mild adult situations.

* * *

_Koza Commercial High School Track Team._

_Front row: left to right: Fija Norika, Shimabuku Miho, Kinjou Kaori, Otonashi Saya._

Her eyes moved back and forth between the final name and the face in the picture they pertained to.

_She looks like me._

Saya had gone to the library with a secret mission in mind, to find out something about her past: who she used to be before the _hit and run_ accident that had supposedly left her wandering around Okinawa with no idea who she was. She never imagined that it would be as easy as entering her name into the search field of an electronic newspaper archive.

Her eyes were fixed on a poor quality print out of her findings as she made her way home beneath the dimming sky of the Okinawa suburb. The date on the page was of particular interest.

_2005._

_That doesn't make any sense. That was over thirty years ago._

_Could it be a weird coincidence?_

_I guess she doesn't look that much like me – her face is shaped a little differently._

The difference in hairstyle made denial easier.

Saya glanced down at the time on her cell phone.

_Wow, I'm really late. Better take the fast way._

She turned a corner and slipped through the chain link fence surrounding the large construction site for a new cluster of high-density housing, a shortcut she had used often when accompanied by her adoptive _sisters_. Perhaps it was her amnesia and limited experience out in the world, or perhaps she simply hadn't seen enough movies to fear such an ominous setting.

Of course, this was when she vaguely registered the presence of a group of young men behind her.

_American soldiers._

American soldiers gallivanting about the streets of Okinawa was a common enough sight not to warrant any particular notice. The bizarre thing was how quiet and orderly they seemed, walking in three straight lines, not even chatting amongst themselves.

_People wouldn't want to get rid of them so badly if they all acted like that, _she thought briefly and ceased to pay them much mind. Judging by their silence, they weren't drunk or riled up, so she assumed she had nothing to fear from them - again, no doubt the naivete of amnesia.

Her mind returned to it's previous subject.

_She does at least look kinda like me, and the name is the same. What are the odds of that? I mean, I guess there's probably more than one Saya Otonashi in the world, but it really is strange that she would look at all like me._

_Could it have been my real mother? We do have the same name, and she would be about the right age -_

_But wait, it couldn't be that - Saya Otonashi was just a name they came up with when they became my foster parents, right?_

_Weird._

_Maybe there's something they're not telling me._

_No, it really must be a coincidence. Yes. Even if they were hiding something, there's no way that could have been me in that picture. I'd have to be at least forty, and still look the same._

_Plastic surgery maybe?_

_No, there'd be some kind of scar or something, and they probably would have made me prettier._

_Must be a weird coincidence. _

She glanced over her shoulder again. _Those guys are still there. _

Saya had a strong urge to fully turn around for a better look at them, but that didn't seem like a good idea. She noted some considerable anxiety rising in her chest and consequently, her pace quickened.

But she could tell by the sound of their boots, that theirs did too.

She made a turn onto one of the narrow lanes between the as-yet uninhabited houses, in hopes that her fears would be quelled by their continuing forward on their way to somewhere else. No such luck.

Still clinging to hope that it was just a coincidence, she made another turn.

And another.

_Still there. They're definitely following me. _

And another – by this time, she wasn't entirely sure of where she was, or which way led out of the construction site.

_Why would soldiers be following me?._

She recalled hearing of incidents of muggers dressed as police, and thought this could be a variation of that technique.

_What do I do?_

She pulled out her cell phone and wallet, tossed them both on the ground and kept walking.

No use, her pursuers didn't appear interested in either, she could actually hear the phone being indifferently kicked aside as they slowly closed the gap.

_Oh god…_

She recalled hearing old people complain of rapes and murders committed by American soldiers in Okinawa.

_Oh god oh god…_

Another idea came to her.

_Maybe if I run for it._

_I'm pretty fast, I bet I can loose them._

She started running, and succeeded in creating a little distance, but was nowhere near shaking them.  
"Leave me alone!" she screamed, "I already dialed the police!"

Her face took on a look of panicked determination as she attempted to coax a little more speed from her legs, far too focused on escape and survival to realize that she was running well over a human's limit.

Just as she was looking over her shoulder again, she suddenly collided with a dark figure, and shrieked in startled terror; in that moment it felt like every cell in her body went rigid.

"Saya, are you alright?"

"Oh god, Haji," she panted as she relaxed slightly. Saya was fairly sure she had never been so glad to see anyone in her life, and fought off a surprisingly strong urge to hug him.

"Those guys are following me." She turned around and pointed. The street was empty. "They really were, there was like ten of them," she pleaded. "I swear! I'm not crazy!"

"I believe you," he stated calmly.

"Um, do you think you could walk with me for a little while, they'll probably leave me alone if you're with me."

"Yes."

She and her companion began walking and the sound of booted-footsteps resumed.

She looked over her shoulder again.

"That's them."

He nodded in acknowledgement.

_They're still following us. Wait – _

"Maybe they'll go away if they think you're my, um -"

"I understand."

She timidly took hold of his left hand, the tense situation couldn't keep her from blushing as his fingers intertwined with hers.

"They're gaining."

He nodded again.

"What do we do?"

Without another word, he swept her up in to his arms and took off running.

"Hey-"

_Damn he's fast!_

She peered over his shoulder.

_No way, they're as fast as he is!_

The Chevalier and his passenger came to a sudden halt when half a dozen more soldiers appeared in their path.

But of course, Haji's escape routes didn't exist in only two dimensions.

_That's – _

Even her inner monologue was dumbfounded as he shot straight up into the air, landed on a nearby roof and took to hopping across them like a ninja in a movie. Saya clung to him as tightly as if he wasn't already holding on to her, glancing up at his moonlit face, and then down at the rooftops flying under his feet.

Unfortunately, their pursuers were just as adept at jumping, and their superior numbers allowed them to regain the upper-hand quickly, flanking him on either side.

Of course, Haji had another option that his opponents did not, one that would have made escape incredibly easy, but he had reasoned that the sight of his wings would be far too much for a Saya still fully in the grips of amnesia. That would be left as a last resort.

Haji's boots hit solid ground a moment later, not because he couldn't fight them on the rooftops, but because the street would give Saya an escape route, if necessary.

Saya got a better look at the soldiers as they closed in around them.

_They all – they all look the same._

In addition to their identical uniforms, each one bore the exact same face, pale skin, shorn black hair, curiously tapered ears and piercing jungle-green eyes that seemed as if they couldn't be real. Even stranger was that in place of guns, they appeared to be carrying large, straight-bladed swords.

_This just gets weirder and weirder_ _and weirder, _Saya thought warily.

_Wait_, _I have an idea. _She gathered every last ounce of courage and stepped forward.

"My step-mother is Mao Jahana," she said as sternly as possible, "oyabun of the Jahana family. She'll be _really_ mad if something happens to me - or my – my – boyfriend."

Their attackers displayed no reaction, verbal or otherwise.

"You know I'm telling the truth! it's way too dangerous to lie about something like that!" She cried in desperation.

They continued their advance and she turned to her companion.

"Please tell me you know karate or something," she whimpered in hopes that his ninja-like jumping could translate into ninja-like fighting.

He made no response, save to pull out one of his daggers.

_Okay, I guess that's better than nothing._

His face remained absolutely calm as he launched his weapon, the dagger seemed to magically multiply in mid air. In the blink of an eye there were half a dozen of them lodged in the faces of their attackers.

_Holy crap! _

Before Saya even had a chance to be further impressed by his skill, something far more alarming caught her attention. One by one, the daggers dropped to the ground, and what should have been fatal injuries closed up before her very eyes.

_Now that's way past weird -_

"What – what are they?"

"Chiropterans."

The soldiers attacked before Haji had a chance to elaborate.

The cello case on his back was now in his hand, and he swung it into the crowd of soldiers, toppling several of them like bowling pins.

_Who would have thought that he's a total badass?!_

Just as she took note of an increase in admiration, the tide of battle seemed to turn when Haji took a harsh, well-placed blow from a corpse corps boot, sending him flying across the street.

However, cunning warrior that he was, he made use of this momentary distance by snapping open his case, and to her further astonishment, pulling out an oddly shaped katana.

_He really is a ninja or something…_

Now, it might have seemed that this would be an appropriate time for him to present Saya with her estranged weapon along with a request that she use it, but Haji hadn't forgotten the content of his plea to his suicidal Queen, shortly after Diva was killed.

"_You do not need to fight anymore."_

At the same time, he knew that daggers and blunt weapons wouldn't defeat these creatures, and he also had no intention of revealing his claw, if it could be at all avoided, not only out of fear of scaring her, but out of a recently developed premonition that the if she were to first see the limb _after_ receiving his blood, it could stimulate the return of her memories, beginning with the most disturbing ones she had.

Haji didn't think of himself as a swordsman, but he was entirely capable of using the weapon, as he had once demonstrated on a Vietnam-bound ship for a previous amnesiac Saya. He gripped the sword tightly and waited for his opponents to approach, in order to draw them away from her.

Saya watched in utter awe as he battled his enemies with such blurred speed as to make it appear that he was wielding a bolt of lightening. For a moment, she was struck by a strange sense of romance in the scene, her crush in engaged in a sword fight on her behalf.

But this notion was quickly washed away by the almost indescribable carnage, blood gushing limbs and severed still-flinching heads that were somewhat inconsistent with a romantic period piece.

Worst of all was the deeply unsettling realization that she was not disgusted by it. Rather, it had an odd air of familiarity, and even more disturbing, instead of being nauseated by the sprays of blood and splatters of guts as any normal person would be, she found that her mouth was watering.

But the looming sense of self-dread was abruptly forgotten when she saw an enemy blade slide through his chest.

"Haji!"

_Oh my god, right in his heart-_

Through the blinding pain, Haji recalled how she had often scolded him for leaving openings for that type of attack. Even with the enormous blade through his chest, he managed to disable the last of his opponents before dropping her sword and collapsing.

Saya burst into tears; logically he would be dead in seconds. It still hadn't occurred to her that he was _one of them._

He pushed himself to a kneeling position_._ His body was already healing around the blade, making it far more difficult to remove. Whether by his chiropteran blood or simple desensitization, Haji probably had the highest tolerance for pain of any conscious creature on earth, but even he cried out as he dislodged the weapon. The sword clinked against the ground, but he was still in no condition to put up much of a fight, and his slaughtered enemies were rapidly reconstituting.

"Saya," a trickle of blood rolled off his lip, "you must run."

"What?"

"I will hold them off."

"I-I cant just leave you here, you're hurt."

"You must."

She glanced at the opening in the ranks.

"But they'll kill you…"

She really hoped that he would say something to contradict this.

But he couldn't deny it.

"There is no choice. You must run."

She glanced down at her katana, lying across the ground between them. A strange urge came over her, or almost more of an irresistible compulsion.

Just then, a thousand images flew through her mind, an incomprehensible whirl of events, of keys, of crumbling castles, of blood spattered non-la, of a little boy crumbling to dust, of a middle-aged man on his hands and knees in a pool of his own blood, of a flaxen haired gentleman kneeling at her feet, of cracks traveling across a mirror-image face, of Haji skewered by a stone monster's claws…

But as she unconsciously reached down for the weapon, the images abruptly stopped.

The very moment her fingers closed around the hilt, she was enveloped in a sensation that was both frightening and heartening. The overwhelming feeling of fear, confusion and helplessness fell away like water from her fingertips, replaced by fortitude, mastery and self-reliance.

And above all, power.

Wide, terrified eyes narrowed slightly to an expression of grotesque calm, pupils dilating, then contracting as her irises ignited into glowing red, to match the blood now running down the length of her sword.

"I wont leave you to die -" the next part of the sentence came out for reasons she did not yet fully comprehend, "not again."

Haji grimaced, as if impaled anew, knowing that his promise at the Met had just been broken.

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

* * *

Don't forget to review!


	6. Pillar of Salt

This chapter contains violence and mild adult themes.

* * *

Saya belted out her battle cry as she charged her opponents, but suddenly she was standing alone in the dark, pitch black even to her chiropteran eyes, the only sound was that of her breath. There was no sign of the alleyway battlefield or her wounded Chevalier. This place was nowhere, nothing.

This strange break with reality during combat had happened before.

_Where am I?_

The air felt as close and stagnant as might be found in a closet, and hung heavy with a horrible stench.

Her hands rose out in front of her, attempting to feel her way to a wall, but as she took her first step, her stomach churned in trepidation and revulsion. There was no mistaking that her foot had just collided with a dead body. She crouched down in disbelief, her fingers finding loose, shriveled skin. She turned around, intending to flee, but she immediately found that she was entirely surrounded by corpses.

She let out a panicked sob as she began gingerly stepping on faces and torsos and legs, hyperventilation causing her to gag on the disgusting air.

Her instinct was to run, to escape, to get out, to get anywhere, but the moment she tried, she found herself falling to the ground, not because she had tripped, but because she could feel cold, wrinkled fingers clamped shut around her ankle.

She grimaced in anticipation of her face meeting the rotting corpses, but the second the full weight of her body hit them, they gave way beneath her as if she were falling through a sheet of paper.

Her stomach leapt into her throat as she felt herself seized by gravity, plummeting into nothingness.

Tears were ripped from her eyes as she fell. Everything was still dark, and every passing second heightened her terror of the unseen, but logically inevitable precipice floor. She soon found herself not wishing for miraculous rescue, but simply to see the ground, to see death coming, to _know_. After an entire minute of terrifying inertia, the ground was no longer an object of fear, but rather a promised end to it, a reprieve from terrible uncertainty of a consequence that might never come.

Just like immortality.

There was a moment of excruciating pain and liberating relief when the earth finally slammed against her body.

She lay, catching her breath for a long while before her eyes drew open. Her hand ran over her mouth, to clear away the material clinging to her skin.

_Sand_.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips, and caught a taste of the grains.

_It tastes like salt._

She gazed down at the small mound in her palm, the moonlight causing the particles to shimmer.

_It's red._

She looked up as the strong wind whipped through her hair, head slowly turning to survey the endless scarlet dunes that resembled frozen waves on a tempestuous sea.

_A desert._

There was no sign of civilization, save what appeared to be stone ruins in the distance.

_It looks like a European castle. _

With no other landmark to guide her through the barren land, she began toward it. Every step sunk a few inches deep in the wind-rippled sand as she climbed a particularly tall dune, in hopes of getting a better look at her surroundings. The wind picked up as her foot finally met the crest, and this combined with the unstable ground, caused her to trip, tumbling down the other side of the mound, leaving miniature avalanches of sand in her wake.

She pushed herself to her feet and scanned the dry, far more level valley she now found herself in.

_Statues?_

Grey skinned, life-sized humanoid figures standing silent and still in petrified ranks protruding from the desert by the dozens.

She began to walk amidst the sculpted pillars of salt.

At first, every face seemed unfamiliar, not even inspiring the slightest tinge of déjà vu. These were some of the many innocent humans that had been transformed into chiropterans, and consequently fallen under Saya's sword.

But as she walked, she began to feel names rolling to the tip of her tongue. Her breath quickened even as her pace slowed to a crawl.

_I know them. I'm sure of it…_

She finally stopped, her eyes darting back and forth between three particular faces in the crowd, each one assaulting her mind with an image of death, each one cut through her spirit like a dull blade.

A boy, a young man and an older man, each had died a chiropteran, each was a death she held herself responsible for, each was someone who had fought for her sake, and done so out of love.

The wind turned her tears cold against her cheeks; she wasn't weeping, the water slipped unceremoniously from her eyes, until her gaze fell on one final face.

Saya was drawn to it as involuntarily as if reeled in by a noose round her neck.

She stood toe to toe with the statue.

_Is she – me?_

It seemed to be an exact likeness, the blank, gray eyes allowed for no distinction. Without thinking, her hand found it's way up to the face, but even the lightest touch was too much.

_No! Diva! _The name only came to her in that moment.

The statue imploded against her fingertips, the gray stone skin giving way to bright red glass like a drab geode exploding into shimmering crystal, instantaneously deteriorating into finely granulated blood, reduced to just another mound in the crimson sands.

The other surrounding statues inexplicably began to crumble as if in a chain reaction, destruction fanning out from Saya's location, disintegrating one after another in ripples of extermination.

The shame and panic of a child having broken something valuable suddenly transformed into the desperate guilt and remorse of a penitent murderer.

_I'm sorry!_

As if in response to her transgression, the wind turned violent, transforming the grains into stinging pricks against her skin, rapidly encrusting the tears on her cheeks. Her hand instinctively flew in front of her eyes as the storm enclosed her in thick gusts of sand.

She fell to her knees, choking on the corpses of her slain kin.

* * *

"Diva _never_ took this long to remember," Solomon sighed, actually sounding slightly dispirited.

Nathan nodded. "True, she'd be up and back to spontaneously killing things within days, but I suppose that even twins are bound to have _some_ differences."

The two Chevaliers sat opposite each other at a small table, just beside an open sliding glass door, both leisurely sipping at a wineglass. Nathan's company was, Solomon conceded, actually somewhat enjoyable in small doses, or at least until he inevitably started in with his inciting questions.

"You still don't know, do you, Solomon?"

"Don't know what?"

"Why you're willing to go so far for Saya."

"Because I love her," he answered casually, hoping that this would be enough to shut Nathan up.

Nathan just laughed. "I thought you'd say that, but I much preferred the answer you gave in my basement, so _introspective, _so unlike_ you_. Powerless and frustrated as you were at that moment, it figured that your response would imply that it was all just an extreme attempt at asserting your autonomy."

"I was in a rather strange state of mind, if you must know, and if you preferred that answer, then why ask me again, now?"

"Because I am trying to gauge just how full of shit you are. You know, sometimes I can't help but wonder if you have any idea what you _really_ want."

"Nathan, if you think you're going to convince me that my feelings for her are just some shallow, pheremonal fancy, you're wasting your time."

"As if time had any value to _me_," Nathan laughed. "And do you really think that biology has _nothing_ to do with it? After all, it did make a fourteen-year-old sissy-boy fuck his worst enemy on ten seconds notice; you don't believe that what you're experiencing is at all related to that phenomenon?" He paused. "But, strangely enough, I don't doubt that you _truly_ love Saya." Nathan nonchalantly examined his own fingernails, "What I _do_ doubt is that you're a better match for her than Haji."

Solomon did know enough of his brother's manipulative nature to perceive that Nathan meant that statement as a challenge to prove him wrong, that he was trying to goad him into some kind of rash action, no doubt for his own amusement.

"What makes you say that?" Solomon asked calmly, as if to tell his brother that his prodding would be fruitless.

"Do you have any idea how messed up she is? What she's been through? She's the most straightforward case of post traumatic stress that I've ever seen."

"I know that she's lived through a great deal, and such things are often harsh on a kind heart," he spoke evenly, gazing down at his glass, regarding the reflection of the moon on the surface of the blood, "but I believe that in time, she'll find new, more pleasant things to think about. Whatever painful memories she has will be buried under new, happy ones, as opposed to being constantly dredged up, as they would be by the presence of her dismal brother in arms."

"You _could_ be right, she is immortal, and what are a few decades of pain in comparison to _forever_? Eventually, she'll get over it." Nathan directed a rather serious look at Solomon. "But who ever is with her in the meantime will need the _patience of a saint_, and a saint, you're not. As a matter of fact, I'm not even convinced that you've got much in the way of patience either." Nathan let out a brief laugh. "As well you shouldn't, in this case."

"What do you mean?"

Nathan's face formed into a knowing grin as he patted his brother on his left shoulder, in a rather specific spot. "The graft's saved your life, but you're not immortal anymore. How long do you think you have?"

Solomon laughed dismissively. "Oh, that? No worries, at the rate it's going, I've got _plenty_ of time."

"But not _forever_. Keep in mind that, in three years, she'll be going back into that tomb for a few decades, and can you be absolutely certain that you'll live to see her come out again?"

Solomon took on a smug smile, still trying not to be influenced by his brother's spurring. "Oh, I think I have longer than that, and besides, I haven't forgotten what you told me all those years ago, about how to end a Queen's sleep cycle."

"Ah, yes! Your trump card!" Nathan clapped excitedly, having led the conversation to the precise point he had planned to. "Well then, it's getting to be just about time to put that ace it in the hole, don't you think?"

Solomon rolled his eyes coolly at Nathan's salacious wink.

"No seriously Solomon, I mean it, I believe I already explained that it'll all be for naught if Haji beats you to it."

Solomon shook his head. "True, but I'm not especially worried about that, as obvious as it is to everyone else, I'm not sure he has it in him to even tell her how he feels, let alone -"

"You don't know what happened at the Met!" Nathan cut in, in a teasing, singsong tone.

"Why? What _else_ happened?" Solomon enquired eagerly.  
"He _did_ tell her, and then there was the - well, I wasn't able to see them from my position at that particular moment, but I could see Kai, and judging by his averted gaze and the general flow of the scene, I'm fairly sure that there was a kiss."

Solomon's usual serenely self-assured expression wilted into something like alarm.

"And thus I wouldn't be at all surprised if, once her memory returns, they pick up right where they left off."

It took Solomon a few seconds to regain his habitual sanguine countenance, though it was a few more until he seemed to know what to say. "Well then, I suppose I'd - "

Nathan raised his hand in a clear command for immediate silence, his eyes shifting aimlessly, as if trying to distinguish what song was playing in the next room at a cocktail party.

"Oh piss! And I wasn't done with you yet! Looks like we'll have to finish our talk some other time."

"What are you going on about _now_?" Solomon asked, his tone actually somewhat short.

"Tell me Solomon, do you feel it?"

Solomon's irritation at Nathan's information and rudeness dissipated and he leaned out onto the balcony, attuning his senses to the city.

"They've found Saya," Solomon replied abruptly, stepping up onto the rail. Before making his exit, he turned back to his brother.

"Aren't you coming?"

"_Me_? Pfft! You know I only fight on _special _occasions, and a couple of corpse corps aren't worth getting _icky_ over. _You_, on the other hand, swore to protect her and _you_ helped make those things – this is _your_ problem. Besides, she already got a freebie out of me. But, I'll tell you what I'll do, I'll buzz the Shield, and tell them to mobilize a clean up crew."

Solomon nodded and vanished like smoke in the wind.

"Try not to kill Haji!" Nathan called after him as if he were a parent, advising a child to play nice at school.

* * *

The alley was a scene of carnage as gruesome as any Solomon had seen in his life, and he'd participated in two world wars. The corpse corps had been completely annihilated, some crystallized, some simply shredded to ribbons.

Saya stood with her back to him, mechanically jabbing her sword into one of her still twitching, fallen opponents.

Her head turned as she no doubt sensed his presence, and her eyes met his from over her shoulder, her nostrils flaring slightly as she looked him over, eyes ablaze in more ways than one.

Solomon took notice of his rival lying on the ground near by. The drops of blood on Haji's torn collar, and his wrinkled, sunken skin made it clear what had happened to him.

_Who's better looking now? _Solomon thought smugly, before Saya reclaimed his attention, and in a somewhat surprising manner.

She tackled him, slamming his body against the pavement, and before he had a chance to react, she was already enthusiastically straddling his hips.

Solomon would have dearly liked to believe all of this was an expression of joy upon seeing him again, that she had remembered him, and was now permitting herself to express affections and desires that had been previously kept hidden.

But he couldn't quite bring himself to believe it, due to her striking lack of a smile, or any discernable expression, for that matter. Because of his days with Diva, Solomon knew a _fit of instinct _when he saw it. As a matter of fact, he was so familiar with the concept that he had actually come up with a system of labels for the various degrees at which his ex-Queen could surrender to instinct, mainly for ease of communication between the Chevaliers. Code 5 signified that she was perfectly calm, lucid and reasonable (and usually seemed to indicate that she was depressed) and Code 1 signifying that she had completely lost touch with reality and was a mortal danger even to her own Chevaliers. Solomon optimistically appraised Saya as being somewhere around Code 3, a little more _uninhibited _than usual.

Even so, he made no protest against her actions.

It might have seemed as if he was handling the situation a little too opportunistically, no better than a bastard taking advantage of a drunk woman, but Solomon saw no such parallel. He took this simply as Saya finally embracing her glorious chiropteran nature, her destiny as a chiropteran Queen.

_And who would I be to deny _her_ desires? _

He leaned forward to kiss her, but the attempt at romance was adeptly evaded, her face bobbed to the side as if someone had just stepped in front of the television. Saya's attention was focused elsewhere.

In the blink of an eye, his leather belt had been sliced in two.

"Now, now, let's not be too hasty -"

She obviously didn't register his request, her eyes with a vacant, wild stare that was a familiar sight to him, though not on her. She pulled at the waistband of his pants, causing the button to pop off.

Solomon hadn't quite anticipated that she would be _this _eager, he was actually more in mind of passionate kisses and embraces appropriate to the reunion of long divided lovers, ideally followed by retiring to somewhere a little more private.

Solomon prided himself on being master of his own inner beast, but even he had some trouble controlling the intense and decidedly unromantic impulses that were welling within him in response to his _bride's_ presenting herself so temptingly.

But desperately though he wanted her, all of her, he had no intention of consummating their love in an alleyway like a couple of stray dogs. That was not to mention that the multitude of body parts and large pools of blood didn't help the atmosphere either, even for a Chiropteran, and most offensive of all, unresponsive though he was, Haji was lying not three feet away from them.

At the same time, being madly in love with her, he wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. Saya suddenly fell back on her rear, and Solomon appeared beside her, scooping her up into his arms, intending to whisk her off to somewhere less revolting, telling himself that it wasn't just to capitalize on her present willingness, but also for her own safety.

But being manhandled didn't seem to please the rabid Queen one bit, and Solomon soon found himself thrown to the ground with a deep gash in his side.

"Now that hurt, angel," he said, chiding through a suave smile.

Saya let out a beastly snarl, bearing her teeth at the lovesick Chevalier, having apparently forgotten her estrus intentions from a moment earlier and now perceiving herself to be under attack. Like any animal threatened by a creature it assumed to be of inferior strength, she intended to make it pay dearly.

Solomon was actually becoming a little annoyed himself; there was almost nothing that irritated him more than his opinion being disregarded, and nothing kills the mood like the activation of a pet peeve.

He was also starting to realize that Saya was, at present, too far gone to be controlled. Fortunately, he was also well practiced at how to handle such a contingency, how to subdue a Queen in that state, how to take advantage of their derangement in order to overcome their increased strength.

_There are only two options in this situation, cause her to lose consciousness, or let her tire herself out. The inevitable civilian death toll of the latter will prove problematic, so that leaves us with…_

The enraged Queen was shoved back against the wall, her momentary disorientation enabling him to seize her wrists in one hand, while the long, elegant fingers of the other closed around her neck.  
_Oxygen deprivation will make her pass out, but, unlike with humans, it can't cause any permanent damage._

"I'm sorry," he whispered tenderly in her ear as she grunted and struggled, "But I'd prefer not to die for you _again_ unless it's truly necessary."

Solomon looked away, unwilling to watch himself do the deed, his own throat tightening slightly as the grunts turned into increasingly desperate gasps, and she finally fell limp in his arms.

He breathed a brief sigh of relief.

"I promise, after a nap, you'll feel much better."

Solomon gathered his _bride_ in his arms and carried her in the manner most appropriate to that title. He glanced down when he felt her stir against him, a soft coo on her lips.

"Shhhh. Go back to sleep, angel," he whispered soothingly.

"Hhhhhaji."

Much as he would have liked to, there was no mistaking what she had mumbled. Solomon glanced back at the Chevalier he'd just left for dead.

"If that is what you wish, Saya," he reluctantly sighed after more than just a moment's hesitation, carefully placing the still unconscious Queen on the ground, resting her head on a bloodied torso.

"You really are pathetic, Haji," he shook his head as he reached down for one of the non-crystallized corpses, ripping off one of its arms, dangling it over Haji's face in such a way as for the blood to drip onto his lips, and wrung out the limb like a wet dishrag. Of course Solomon knew that Saya's blood would have been the most potent medicine, but while he was willing to hurt her in order to save himself, he was not willing to hurt her to save her pest of a Chevalier, and he certainly wasn't going to use his own.

Haji flinched after a few incognizant gulps.

"Tastes like swill doesn't it? We did that on purpose so they wouldn't feed off each other," Solomon muttered to his still unconscious co-Chevalier, his skin rapidly regaining it's proper firmness and some slight amount of color. Having done more for Haji than he particularly cared to, Solomon tossed the severed limb aside and made his way back toward Saya, chuckling in spite of himself.

"You really are determined to make a _do-gooder _of me, aren't you, Saya?"

Haji's eyes finally peeled open, and the sight of Solomon kneeling beside an unconscious Saya was the first thing that came into focus. A pair of intangible daggers flew from Haji's eyes as his rival embraced his beloved, but Solomon was too absorbed by the enchanting creature in his arms to notice.

_So beautiful, even when you're coated with blood and filth._

"Don't touch her," Haji growled.

"You're welcome," Solomon answered blithely back over his shoulder, not heeding the demand.

Haji immediately comprehended Solomon's intention to spirit her away again, but Haji was in no shape to fight him physically, and their last confrontation had shown that Solomon didn't seem effected by any of his threats.

"She has not regained her memory yet," Haji stated, with just the slightest note of entreaty. Haji had no other option but to appeal to Solomon's sense of honor, despite his being sure that whatever honor Solomon had stemmed from vanity rather than real conviction.

Solomon laughed in spite of himself again. "You know, I cant quite decide if I'm glad or disappointed that you didn't see what just happened." _I think I'd enjoy the look on your face when Saya started ripping off my pants, however annoying your presence might have proven afterwards._

"You gave your word, Solomon."

Of course, he had already broken his word that day on the train, but Solomon Goldsmith was obviously not one to be held back by oaths he didn't feel like keeping.

Solomon considered his options.

_Well, Haji's in no condition to give chase, and it would probably take him a while to find her…_

_Then again, it's unlikely that Saya will remember anything from this incident, let alone want to continue what she started. And besides, I'd be surprised if Haji didn't tell her that I'd broken my word by bringing her with me, and the last thing I want to do is come off as is untrustworthy. _

_I may as well avoid conflict, and just hand her off to Haji. But I must admit, these setbacks are becoming rather frustrating. _

"That I did," he sighed as he unhanded his sleeping _bride_. "But Haji, I know that this sort of incident indicates full _awakening, _and I assure you_,_ my _spies_ will inform me the very moment she seems to have recovered her past. I will take my place at her side."

Solomon turned an infuriatingly longing stare at Saya before taking his leave, discreetly holding the waistband of his pants so as to keep them from falling off.

* * *

Things got a little weird for a minute there, didn't they?

I eagerly await your comments! Please?


	7. The Smith, the Apprentice and the Maid

This chapter is kind of a story within a story, sort of styled after the Russia flashback in ep. 17.

Contains violence, and some [very mild] lime content.

* * *

The apartment was dirt cheap due to the landlord being in the process of remodeling the upper floor. It was seven am, and the hammering had already begun.

The tiny room was sparsely furnished, only an armchair, table and mostly empty bookshelf. The thin futon in the center still smelled of it's plastic wrapping when it was unrolled, and Saya placed on it, still unconscious.

To Haji, this was almost a routine, caring for Saya in this way, passed out after a battle.

Haji had removed all her clothes save her undergarments; her uniform was absolutely drenched in blood, and was now soaking in a bathroom sink full of cold rust-colored water. If there was anything Haji was an expert at other than cello, monster-slaying and tacit emotional support, it was removing bloodstains.

She was asleep so deeply that she didn't even wake when he redressed her in a curiously familiar set of clothes. Her green blouse and white skirt had been tucked away in his cello case ever since she had dressed for that fateful night at the opera in 2006.

Haji then knelt over her, lovingly running a damp washcloth over her blood-spattered face.

The cool water against her skin made her stir, her eyes cracking open slightly, focusing on his him for a moment, and then closing once more.

* * *

_The late nineteenth century…_

…

Saya vaguely registered the sensation of something cool moving across her forehead and shifted under the covers in response to the chill.

Her eyes opened to the amber glow of an oil lamp just beside the mat where she'd been sleeping, taking notice of heavy, rhythmic, metallic clanging that seemed to be coming from somewhere near by, perhaps the next room.

Just as she finally recalled last night's defeat, she also perceived movement on the other side of the mat, and her senses told her that it wasn't Haji.

Saya shot up to a sitting position, seizing the intruder by the front collar of her clothes.

"Who are you?!" she demanded.

The only answer she got was a startled _eeep_ from a terrified, kimono-clad young woman.

"Saya, it's alright, your safe," came a familiar voice from across the room.

Saya exhaled as she released the frightened girl, and turned to face Haji, finding him kneeling rather awkwardly on the floor. Beside him was an older Japanese man, in casual, yet traditional attire, sitting with his back to her. At first glance, he actually made her think of Joel, due to his short, thoroughly gray, yet not receding hair.

Saya started again when she realized that the man was holding a sword, but relaxed once more, recognizing that it was obviously neither a offensive nor defensive position, he actually appeared to be grinding the edge it against a stone block in front of him.

"You're wife is rather high strung, isn't she?" he said, neither looking up from his work nor turning to face her.

_That_ was enough to jolt Saya out of whatever drowsiness might have otherwise lingered.

"We are not married," Haji said calmly.

"Oh, pardon me. Your lover," the man said, very briefly glancing over his shoulder at Saya.

Saya couldn't let _that_ statement pass without some sort of refutation. "I am _not_ his lover," she cried in a tone somewhere between the righteous indignation of a lady whose honor had been insulted and the embarrassment of a teenage girl upon being romantically implicated with a platonic friend.

The old man looked genuinely confused and turned to Haji, but still continued his polishing. "Hmm, then I don't mean to pry, if she's not your wife or your lover, why do you bring her along with you on your crusade to slay those _things_?"

It took Haji a moment to form his response to the man's assumption. "With all due respect, I believe you have misunderstood. It is _she _who brings _me _along. Saya is the one who fights them, I am merely her chaperone. She actually prefers that I not get involved in combat, if possible."

The grinding of the sword against the stone finally stopped and the old man turned around to face Saya, as if her presence had been inconsequential until that moment. His face struck her as like that of an old sailor, rough, permanently reddened, and creased not so much by age as by action.

"This girl? She is the monster slayer?"

"Yes. It is she who has vowed to destroy them, thereby protecting the humans that they hunt."

It might have seemed strange that Haji would put words in her mouth, but the fact was, his Japanese was twice as good as hers, due to his often staying up all night to study the text they had bought, as well as long conversations with crew members of the ship that brought them there.

Saya's progress had been less impressive. At this point, she got the gist of almost everything she heard and was able to hold a conversation, but she often found herself missing crucial subtleties, and this language was full of them. Thus lately, Haji had been doing most of the talking.

Haji was always a fast learner, especially when it came to blending in. Adapting to new cultures and surroundings was a skill he'd picked up long before meeting Saya.

Despite her clumsy Japanese, she couldn't hold in her question. "Why are we here?"

The old man answered before Haji could. "I saw you two fighting that _thing_ last night, or actually, by the time I was able to see anything, you two were in a bloody heap on the ground. I managed to get it in the eye bad enough to scare it off, and brought you back here." The old man's voice was stern and yet unaffected, and he began polishing again.

"Saya, he saved our lives, and has offered to help us."

Saya's suspicion of his motives caused her to forget the thanks she owed him for the moment. She had lost consciousness while in the presence of a shape-shifting monster, so it was reasonable to assume that the old man was in fact the Chevalier they had fought the previous night.

"So you just _happened _to find us?" she actually managed to insert some subtext into the statement.

"No, I didn't just _happen _to find you. I had been tracking that _thing _and ended up finding you two."

"Saya," Haji gently took hold of her arm, leaning over her shoulder, "I saw him and the chiropteran at the same time, we owe him more than just the benefit of the doubt," he whispered in French, the language in which all their private conversations were conducted at the time.

"I find it funny that you are accusing me of being one of them, considering you are one yourself," the old man said dryly.

The color drained out of Saya's face. The most cutting insult is always a truth that one refuses to accept.

"That's right, I know what you are. I have attempted to slay that _thing _myself, so I know how quickly it heals, and you two should have died of the injuries I found you with last night, but they're completely gone now."

Saya opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pained gasp.

"Don't worry, I wont judge you for fighting against your own kind. Humans do it all the time. Say, is it some kind of feud?"

"You _could_ say that," Haji answered.

"It's not a feud," Saya said vehemently. "They just need to be destroyed! All of them!"

The old man turned to Haji. "Some fire in that belly, eh? Now I'm starting to believe that she's the warrior." He turned back to Saya. "I agree with you there. They do need to be destroyed." He paused. "The murders began several months ago, always a small family, no more than three or four people, always drained of all their blood, always a blue rose left behind, always the same story."

"Do you have more details than that? Any clue could be useful in tracking it," Haji asked, clearly interested.

"You know, Shosuke could tell it better." He stood and pushed back a screen revealing an ash laden, smoky workshop, a cloud of steam erupting from a trough as a young man plunged a rough-edged disc of neon-hot steel into it.

"Shosuke! Come here!" the old man shouted over the hiss of the water.

The young man nodded silently, putting down his work. He looked to be somewhere around sixteen or seventeen, with an almost shockingly muscular build, accentuated by his shirtlessness and the gleam of labor-induced sweat, his bronzed skin and pleasing face highlighted by the orange glow of the fire.

Haji noticed that Saya was blushing, but not looking away. For some reason, Haji was immediately inclined to dislike the boy.

"Tell these people what happened to your family."

A few seconds passed before he spoke, his voice almost too quiet to hear over the crackling of the fire. "It was four months ago. We woke up one morning, and my mother was missing, so I went to look for her. I searched all day, at dusk I found her body in the creek. She was very pale." He paused and swallowed, but continued with remarkable poise. "I carried her home, but when I arrived, I saw _it, _my father and little brother dead at her feet, drained of their blood. There was a blue rose in her hand. She dropped it, and then disappeared."

The old man nodded. "I took him on as my apprentice just after that – he has no family, I have no son – it made sense."

"But wait. The killer, it was a girl?" Saya asked with excitement that was hardly an appropriate response to such a tragic story, "What did she look like?"

The boy briefly made eye contact. "It looked like my mother."

"The one we saw last night looked like a man," she sighed to herself.

"Always the same story" the old man lamented again, " - one family member leaves the house, returns, kills everyone and then disappears. Rumors are circulating that it's demonic possession, a logical conclusion considering that it would seem the thing appears in different bodies, but Shosuke's story shows that this isn't the case. The _thing_ must have the ability to change it's appearance." He paused and took on a grave look. "I want to help you _end_ it."

Gratified as she was by his statement, Saya shook her head.

Haji took this as his cue to elaborate on her tacit refusal. "We really appreciate you letting us stay here, but I really don't think there's anything else you can do to help."

"Hmm. Do you know exactly what it is that I do?"

"Judging by the equipment, I'd say you're a swordsmith," Haji answered.

"A weapons smith, technically. A little town like this has no need of a sword _specialist_, so I also do fancy tanto and naginata for rich-girl's weddings, as well as various, _unorthodox_ weaponry – but lately, demand has been so low that I'll be making pots and pans any day now."

Saya seemed to gather what sort of assistance he had in mind. "I already have a weapon."

"This thing?" the old man said condescendingly as he grasped the rapier laid out beside Saya's mat. "If this is what European swords look like, it's no wonder they invented guns. You actually fight them with _this_?"

"Yes, I do," Saya said with a note of irritation.

"But it's a stabbing weapon, yes? When one of those things takes a hit, it closes up almost instantly, I would think that puncture wounds would be the _most_ inconsequential."

The old man held up the weapon he was currently working on. "Japanese katana can cut a man in half with one swing, even in the hands of a human, in the hands of a demon like you, I'm sure it could do the same to that _thing_."

"I don't need to cut them in half."

The old man looked puzzled. "How _else_ could you kill it?"

"We have reason to believe that Saya's blood is poisonous to them if it comes in contact with theirs, theoretically, she would only need to scratch it," Haji explained.

"_Reason to believe_? You mean you've never tried it?"

"Not yet."

The old man stared at them incredulously, "Have you _ever _killed one of them?"

"No, but I will," Saya declared firmly.

The smith shook his head. "All the more reason for you to get a new sword."

"I appreciate the offer sir, but I wouldn't know how to use a sword like that, a slashing weapon."

The old man looked her in the eye. "You'll just have to learn then."

Haji seemed to see the value in the old man's suggestion. "Could you recommend a good teacher to us?"

"I would, but it would sound rather arrogant for me to tout my own skills. I have always been of the opinion that a swordsmith who doesn't fence is like a cook who doesn't eat - how would he know the quality of his own work?"

"I'm sure it would be too much trouble -"

"No trouble at all, I promise you. I've just started teaching Shosuke, so it would only be a matter of yelling at two people instead of one. Now, I can't teach you the formal styles that you would see in some fancy dojo, but I think that's all the better in this case. I would think fighting monsters wouldn't require rigid codes of honor, but rather stealth and resourcefulness. Lucky for you, I have such skills."

"Where would a _blacksmith_ learn something like that?" Saya asked, suspicion creeping back into her tone.

"If you must know, I have always specialized in unconventional weaponry, which means I attract some - _mysterious_ clients, and in my younger days, I was known to exchange my services for their knowledge, and have picked up more than a few techniques."

"Oh."

The break in conversation was filled by grinding and clanging.

"So, your – _friend_, he told me that you are _both_ from France."

"Yes."

He looked up from his work, and his eyes briefly roamed over her face. "Were your parents Japanese?"

"My fa – the man who raised me was French."

"Hmm." His eyes returned to the blade. "I think your natural parents must have been Japanese."

Saya knew what he was getting at. Before this journey, Saya had never met an _Asian-looking_ person before, such a population being virtually non-existent in France at that time. It had occurred to her before that she looked a little different from the Europeans she had grown up amongst, but no more different than they looked from each other. But in the three months since arriving in Japan, she had been repeatedly mistaken for Japanese, particularly by her fellow foreigners, and thus had come to accept that she must look like a local to them.

"Because of the way I look?"

"Not just that. Your name, it was given to you by your natural parents, wasn't it?"

"Kind of," she mumbled evasively. Of all the things she had learned by finally being able to read Joel's diary, the fact that her _birth_ had consisted of being removed from a mummified monster called "Saya" was probably the most disturbing, and she wasn't about to explain all of that to this stranger.

"Rather curious that it's meaning is so relevant to you."

"Meaning? I thought _Saya_ it meant _fast arrow._"

"Yes, but it can also mean _scabbard._ A sword-holder, like you."

"That's interesting," Haji commented.

A young woman entered, wordlessly distributed cups and poured tea.

_I must have scared that poor woman half to death._

She struck Saya as looking like a lady from one of the woodblock prints she'd been seeing lately, a _classical_ Japanese beauty, naturally fair skin splashed with pink on the lips and cheeks, and striking black eyes.

"Is she you're daughter?"

"Chika? No, I pay her to keep house for me, ever since my wife died."

Saya thought for a moment. "Your wife - was she killed by the demon?"

"No. Not unless that thing can cause _beriberi_. I suppose you think that's why I try to fight that thing – in a way, you're right, because there's no way she would have allowed me to do something so reckless."

His tone was still austere and yet artless, it was becoming clear that this was the way he always spoke.

"Then why _do_ you fight them?"

"So many have died. To kill innocents is truly heinous, but to do it while pretending to be someone they love and trust - that is just _unspeakable_. The people of the village now live in fear of their own families - it has to be stopped. No one else seemed to be doing anything, but I have some weapons training, so I felt it was my duty to my community to do something."

Those words resonated with Saya, and suddenly, she was a good deal more willing to trust him.

"Duty," Saya repeated softly to herself.

This would be the beginning of a deep, mutual respect between Saya and her teacher-to-be.

Saya realized that odd circumstances had caused something of a breach in protocol. "Forgive me sir, but I don't think you mentioned your name."

"Oh. Well, people call me Otonashi, but _you_ can call me sensei," he said flatly.

That would be the first time Saya heard the name she would eventually adopt as an alias, sometime during the 1960s, and mark the beginning of a short, but influential period in Saya's life.

The smith, the apprentice and the maid would all have their parts to play.

* * *

Saya knelt on the floor, a position that she was not at all used to yet, but seemed to be proper in this country. The maid was behind her, attempting to pin her hair up, as Otonashi had ordered. Saya's hair was still rather long at this time, it wouldn't be until after the sleep she did not yet know to be eminent, that she would take cut it off, like a tonsure symbolizing her commitment to her cause.

Both Saya and Haji's clothing had been totaled the previous night, and any alternate outfits had not yet been brought over to their new lodging, so their current garb was borrowed.

It might have seemed that a kimono ensemble would have suited Haji, but it actually looked rather awkward on him. The hakama belonged either to Otonashi or Shosuke, both a good deal shorter than him, thus it only went down to just past his knees, appearing not unlike the long, baggy shorts that would come into fashion a century later.

Saya was also dressed in men's clothes, in preparation for the lessons that were to begin almost immediately.

"I really like these _trousers_, it's easy to move in them, but their no more revealing than a skirt. I bet these would catch on way better than bloomers."

"They _are_ divided," Haji said with a note of disapproval.

"So, you can tell I have legs, I think you know that anyway. It's more modest than my old fencing uniform, and besides – it's not like you've never seen my _limbs _before…" She suddenly became aware of how suggestive that sounded. "I mean, in the old days, when you were a little boy…" _That sounded even worse. "_I mean … Y-you know what I meant!"

Ever since being allowed to read Joel's diary, or rather since finding out why Haji had been brought to the Zoo, it seemed that she had become especially concerned with matters of decorum wherever Haji was concerned, as if she were taking pains to disprove a malicious rumor.

"_They _haven't seen your limbs."

Saya could see that she wasn't going to win the debate, so she changed the subject.

"What do you think about the plan?"

"I think it is a good decision. I have to admit, your rapier has proven somewhat ineffective in past battles."

"You're right, I guess one of those Japanese swords might actually work better, Monsieur Otonashi sure was right about the puncture wounds closing up quickly," Saya conceded. "You know, I feel like we can trust him, M. Otonashi, I mean. He really seems to want to help us, and, even if you hadn't seen him and the chiropteran at the same time, I think I would be able to tell if it was him."

"I do recall that when we confronted them in Paris, you seemed to see right through Diva's _disguise_." He paused. "I am not trying to be pessimistic, but I don't think that Diva is behind the murders in the area."

Saya's eyes narrowed at the disappointing statement. "What makes you say that?"

Haji seemed to consider his words carefully. "Monsieur Otonashi said that the murders have been going on for almost six months, but we know for a fact that Diva wasn't here six months ago."

"But that doesn't mean she's not here now."

"Yes, but M. Otonashi has also said that the murders come at fairly regular intervals, one family of three or four every few weeks. And consider the information we gathered while closing in on Diva in Transylvania - the killings there were inconsistent, sometimes entire villages were slaughtered, sometimes only one at a time - there was no pattern."

"Well, it's definitely a chiropteran. If it's not Diva, then it's probably not Amshel either, since he's always with her. Who _do_ you think it is, then?"

"I don't know, but judging by the letters we found at the castle, there is now at least one Chevalier other than Amshel, and at least one of them has traveled to Japan." Haji thought for a moment. "From what I know of Amshel, he would most likely choose someone trustworthy, someone he could control." He paused again. "Whoever they are, they could be here trying to lead us _away_ from Diva."

The maid finished her task, and left the room.

"Well, even if it's not Diva, it's a chiropteran, it must be destroyed. No one is safe as long as even one of them is left alive."

Those words cut a stinging gash through Haji's already shaky peace of mind, and part of him, a big part of him, was afraid to ask what her plans were for the two of them.

* * *

Saya had learned to fence years ago, as a matter of fact, she'd been taught many things generally considered inappropriate for women. Apparently, Joel had been curious as to if a chiropteran female was as feeble-minded and frail-bodied as human females were generally believed to be at the time.

In terms of her current lessons, which seemed to be an unorthodox form of kenjutsu, Saya was actually making remarkable progress, but not really due to her prior training. It really had more to do with having a teacher who actually took her seriously as a student, and her having a strong motivation to succeed.

But more than anything else, Saya seemed to take to this new art like a duck to water because of the philosophy that went hand and hand with it. The concept of the _empty mind_ had enormous appeal to a girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. Battle, or at this time, practice, became an escape from the profound stress she was under as well as the tragic events that were still so fresh in her memory, the Zoo having burned less than a year ago.

Over the next four weeks, Saya and her companion fell into an unremarkable routine, Saya spending her days training, Haji dividing his time between sitting in on her lessons and searching the area for clues about the chiropteran.

Most of the truly memorable events would take place in the course of under twenty-four hours, shortly before their stay ended.

The high-noon sun was obscured by gray, fleecy clouds.

Saya and Shosuke stood in the small courtyard beside the workshop, each holding a wooden sword, Otonashi looking on with a critical eye.

"Do I really _have to_, sensei?"

"Yes, you have to. You are doing so well, you may as well get it right. It's part of good technique, makes the swing stronger, makes you breathe properly. Watch."

"Kiyeeeei!" Otonashi bellowed impressively, as he attacked the decaying fence post that had been designated as a target. He returned the wooden weapon to Saya, and grimaced briefly, putting his hand against his back.

"Agh. Now you."

Saya had been known to let out an occasional grunt every now and then during her previous fencing lessons at the Zoo, but never anything like the noises that Otonashi and Shosuke made. From her western point of view, there was something almost savage about it, not to mention extremely unladylike.

"Kyeei."

Saya gave the post a good strong whack.

Otonashi's head drooped to the side, his face bearing a look of disapproval.

"Pathetic. Again, with some _spirit_."

"Kyeeh!"

Otonashi sighed. "Shosuke will show you, I think I'd better sit down." He rubbed his back again. "Not as young as I used to be, and I should be getting back to work, anyway."

"Do you need help inside, sensei?" the boy asked.

"No," Otonashi said flatly. "Not until you get your head out of the clouds, you've been botching everything lately. What, are you, in love or something?"

The boy nodded, apparently concealing his embarrassment and returning to the occupation he'd just been assigned to.

"Yaaaaaaaaah!" he shouted, as his wooden sword flew toward the battered fence post, his movements a good bit more fluid than his aging master.

Saya actually found it slightly amusing that the boy, ordinarily so quiet and nervous in her presence, could muster such an intimidating noise.

Saya made another attempt, and turned to Shosuke, seeking his approval.

"It must come from your center," he said quietly, patting his stomach.

By this time Haji was making his way down the road, returning from a morning's investigations. He immediately noticed Saya with Shosuke, and wasn't pleased by the image he saw.

Haji was absolutely sure that the boy had developed some sort of _fascination_ with Saya, but while he did stare at her every chance he got, his conduct had been irreproachable in every other respect, as a matter of fact, he often seemed downright scared of her. Even so, over the past weeks, Haji had grown to dislike the boy quite a bit, and knowing that he had no good reason to hate the boy just made him hate the boy all the more.

It also should be noted that Haji was, at this time, still _literally_ in his early twenties, and had not _quite_ grown into his impeccable maturity.

Haji could have sworn that for a moment, his blood literally boiled. At first glance, the boy appeared to be embracing Saya from behind, but after only a few more seething steps in their direction, he could see that the boy was actually holding her by the waist, one hand in front, the other hand in back.

"Try to tense your stomach more when you do it."

"Yaaaa!"

"That was better."

The boy's hands were abruptly removed when he caught sight of Haji.

"Oh, Haji. Any news?" Saya asked, now aware of his presence, and apparently unembarrassed.

Haji produced a bundled up handkerchief, and unfolded it, revealing a slightly wilted blue rose, speckled with two or three spots of dried blood.

Haji took notice of the way the boy flinched at the sight of it.

"Another family?" Saya asked somberly.

"Of four."

He could actually see Saya's heart sink.

"I was allowed to examine the scene under the pretense that I was a detective, and was allowed to take this. Saya, I believe this could be an important clue," Haji said, in attempts at raising her spirit.

"It's just a rose," Saya muttered.

"Yes, but look -" Haji plucked off a petal and held it out in his hand. "It's a _real_ blue rose. It's not dyed. It must have been grown locally, and the plants must have been imported from Bordeaux. If we find those plants, we find the chiropteran."

Saya remembered once hearing that blue roses had been Joel and Amshel's first successful experiment in bioecology, and that the blooms had played a role in the courtship of their respective wives, both now long deceased, and they had consequently kept their accomplishment largely private, out of sentiment, thus the existence of blue roses was not known outside of Bordeaux. Joel's wife had passed on before she could remember, but Saya had actually been aquatinted with Amshel's, and recalled that she had once fondly recounted how she and her cousin, both affluent heiresses, had been wooed with bouquets of flowers that were supposed to exist only in legend, and had consequently opened their hearts to the bookish son of a banker, and his handsome English cousin. She only remembered the story because at one time, she had found it to be rather cute, but the thought of someone loving Amshel, a man whose evil she saw as second only to Diva's, seemed unthinkable to her now.

Saya made no response to Haji's theory; she was too wrapped in self-castigation.

_More people are dying, while I'm just standing around. I am so useless. I am a failure. I failed those people._

"I need to get back to training," she mumbled. Haji took the hint and made his way toward the house, pulling out a small book, and sitting on the porch beside a small thicket of quince blossoms.

Her knuckles turned milk-white as she raised the wooden weapon again.

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Saya's signature battle cry was heard for the first time.

"Good! That one was good!" Otonashi called distantly as he leaned out the door of his workshop, quickly taking notice of the cloud of splinters rising up from the now completely shattered fence post. "See! I told you it makes the swing stronger! I think you've got it. Now, back to your drills."

Saya and Shosuke did as they were told, and began the monotonous regimen of repeating the same swing, hundreds of times in a row.

But for Saya, the _empty mind_ was now a lost cause this particular afternoon.

_I failed those people._

_Those people died because of me. _Everyone_ died because of me._

The silent declarations of self-hatred only stopped when she observed the maid walking by, her pace slowing conspicuously as she passed Haji.

_She always does that, the coy little flirt! Does she really think he'll fall for that?_

_Or…_

_Well…_

_Wait, why wouldn't he fall for that?_

Saya was rather surprised when she realized that Haji had clearly stopped her for something.

_I wish I could hear what they were saying._

The two conversed for a moment and he motioned for her to sit down beside him. She couldn't quite put her finger on the reason, but the scene seemed to aggravate her already grim mood.

She soon found herself trying to read their lips, but between their speaking in a language she was not yet entirely proficient in, the wood sword constantly flying into her field of view, this was quite impossible.

Instead she found herself studying the girl, particularly her figure, that of a well-developed woman in her prime.

_Grown up, feminine, demure, sweet – everything that I'm not…_

_Why wouldn't he? What's to keep him with me?_

… _I guess they'd make a good couple._

Irritation bubbled into resentment when she saw that the girl was giggling, and both she and Haji were blushing, their cheeks the same color as the quince blossoms nearby.

That was just too much. Saya's wooden sword fell to the ground and she made her way across the courtyard to the still chuckling pair, her classmate watching curiously.

The moment the girl caught sight of Saya, she stood, gave a cursory bow and left.

"What were you doing?" Saya asked, attempting to speak as disinterestedly as possible.

"She was helping me with my Japanese," he stated.

"Why are you blushing?"

"Apparently, I made a mispronunciation which changed the meaning to something rather embarrassing."

Due to the combination of repressed jealousy and already being in a bad mood from before, Saya had become irritable enough not to be reasoned with.

"Well -" her state of mind was now really starting to break through her composure, "We agreed that I would learn how to fence and you would look for the chiropteran!" she snapped. "With more people dead, you should be out there right now!"

It took him a moment to calm his surprise at how angry she sounded. "I came back to inform you of the situation, and also because I wanted to make sure I had the proper vocabulary in order to question the villagers."

She was actually upset enough to say something that betrayed her real beef. "Well, then what did you need _her_ help for, you have that book you bought!"

"Yes, but the book only contains standard vocabulary, but for our purposes, it will be necessary for me to learn words that don't come up in everyday conversation, words like _bat _and _blood-sucking. _I asked for her help with that, and we ended up chatting for a short time."

"Why didn't you ask Otonashi?"

"I didn't really think about it. Chika happened to be passing by."

"Are you sure _that's_ why you asked _her_?" she demanded accusingly, "or isn't it because you know she _likes_ you?"

Haji actually looked somewhat shocked. "I -I've never seen any indication of her _liking_ me. What makes you think -"

"A woman can tell!"

"Saya, Chika barely even talks to me," Haji said, firm, but not defensive.

"Of course she doesn't! She's reserved and polite, she's a _nice_ girl." Saya's voice lowered to just above a mutter. "She's _perfect_ for _you_."

That was when it occurred to Haji that Saya might be having the same insecurities about Chika as he had about Shosuke.

He furrowed his brows slightly. "Saya, you're not actually worried that I might run off with her, are you?"

He could tell by her glare that he had just hit the nail on the head. "Saya, with all due respect, that is one of the most implausible notions I've ever known you to have," he said, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Even if she doeshave some preference for me, what ever gave you the idea that I would do something like that?"

"Because she's pretty and you're a _man_!"

"Not _that_ kind of man," he answered promptly. "Come now, even your novels don't make _all_ men out to as degenerate womanizers," he stopped, noticing the telltale gloss of her eyes. "Come here," he sighed, stepping forward and putting one arm around her.

Shosuke, who had been watching the whole confrontation until then, averted his eyes bashfully, but Chika continued to watch from the doorway.

A part of Haji wanted to see Saya cry in that moment, not so much because he hoped that she was jealous, but because he knew how she'd been bottling up her emotions lately.

Still, the idea of her being jealous of him wasn't entirely displeasing, so he couldn't help asking. "Saya, why is this bothering you so much?"

His whole being buzzed in nervous hopes of her betraying some sign of romantic affection for him, but her answer inadvertently dashed such dreams to pieces.

"Because – because I - I don't know what I'd do if you ran off," she stopped herself, finally realizing the romantic implications of what she was saying, "I just need your help, it has nothing to do with you - being a man or anything, I just need you with me."

For his part, during the whole of the war, Haji would never be so tempted to explain that he'd been deeply in love with her for years, but those revelations would remain suppressed for over a century.

"I can't do this without you." She reached into his coat pocket for his handkerchief. "I'd go crazy, I'd break down, I wouldn't be able to go on." She blotted away the not-yet-escaped tear. "And I can't afford to do that, not until it's all over. I just can't."

"Saya…" he whispered.

She unconsciously slackened at the sound of it. In her mind, when he said her name like that, he was also telling her _everything will be alright._

Of course, he was also telling her that he loved her, but that was something she had yet to recognize.

She folded the handkerchief and shook her head as she slipped it back into his pocket. "But it's not fair of me to ask that of you, is it? This isn't your cross to bear."

"No less than it is yours."

She looked up at him doubtfully. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Saya, I understand that you feel that Diva must be destroyed due to the danger she poses, but you are not at fault for-"

"Don't say that!" she cried. "Don't say thing's you know aren't true! I'm not some baby who has to be soothed!"

"Saya -"

She could tell that he was hurt, her tone softened. "I'm sorry, but if I can't trust _you_ to be honest with me, then who _can_ I trust?"

She turned to walk away.

"Saya, I was being -"

"Don't!" her voice wavered as she snapped. Saya turned her head, looking over her shoulder, but not making eye contact. "I'm sorry if you misunderstood what I said before. I don't need to be comforted. I need to be focused. Coddling me with lies, telling me that this isn't my fault - that will only detract from that, and if you cant help me, then -" she turned back around and walked away in silence. She didn't have to finish her statement, her warning was clear enough.

Haji's fingers drew together, the furthest extent of frustration he ever displayed concerning Saya. On some level, he knew that she was taking out her unhappiness on him. That seemed to be his lot in life since the Zoo, to share the load that was her troubles, and in a way, this would never change, as long as they both lived. This in mind, it might have seemed like Haji had _no_ pride whatsoever, to put up with this treatment. In fact, he just had a _different_ definition of pride.

* * *

The silence between Saya and Haji was even more noticeable as dinner was laid out before they, Otonashi and Shosuke. At this time, Haji still felt obliged to eat when in company, though he had noticed that lately, or rather since his transformation, food had mysteriously lost it's appeal; he regarded it as a human might after a huge meal. Saya's appetite however, seemed as voracious as ever, though she seemed to take far less pleasure in food, just as she seemed to take far less pleasure in everything.

The four housemates simultaneously took a bite of the meal, and then immediately reached for the tea, still perfectly synchronized.

Before any veiled comments about the scorched rice could be made, every heart in the room skipped a beat when a feminine shriek suddenly filled house. They all turned, finding Chika on her tiptoes in the corner, the hem of her kimono held up to her knees.

"Rat!" she yelped.

Indeed, there was a lump of greasy black fur moving across the floor toward the poor girl.

Chika's eyes shut tightly as if helpless in the face of this scurrying doom, but the creature was stopped dead, about two inches shy of her feet.

A pocketknife was lodged directly through the unfortunate critter; Haji's hand was still out in a follow-through position.

"Nice shot, Haji," Otonashi said matter-of-factly.

Chika minced across the room to her hero.

"Thank you very much," she said breathlessly along with a floor-level bow, as if groveling before a lord.

Saya fumed in silence at the display, even though Haji had staged many a more dramatic rescue on her own behalf. The confrontation from earlier that day had just rendered her especially sensitive to such things and it also didn't help that she could recall a similar instance in which she'd been startled by a mouse, but Haji had missed that time, no doubt due to the smaller target. But the idea that a prettier girl could inspire better aim wouldn't be the most irrational notion ever created by jealousy.

Haji immediately realized that he had just made matters between himself and Saya considerably worse, even though it had really been nothing more than an instinctual reaction, akin to slapping a fly.

"Now where did you learn to do that?" Otonashi asked casually.

"I learned when I was a boy."

Knife throwing had been one of his tribe's most popular acts, and Haji had been instructed in it in preparation of what was to be his livelihood. Killing rats in that way had been a pastime of the older boys, as he recalled.

"Hmm." Otonashi seemed lost in thought.

"Excuse me," Saya muttered as she stood, barely concealing her irritation. "I think I'll go have a bath."

Considering how agitated she was, the poorly prepared food was no big loss, not to mention that the unexpected impalement of a rat wasn't exactly stimulating to the appetite.  
Haji would have attempted to follow and explain, but knew he wouldn't have been welcome, even if she wasn't going to bathe.

Otonashi ventured another bite of the food, and then stood himself. "I think I'd better get back to work."

A few seconds later, Shosuke glanced around the room, and without a word, he too left the table.

Haji, the one who was only eating out of politeness in the first place, was left alone with his dinner.

* * *

Even the slightest curve, the stringy strands of her wet hair, the subtle movements of her breasts, the beads of water rolling down her skin, were all faithfully projected on the white shoji screen that separated him from the room where Saya had just finished bathing.

It was, without a doubt, the most erotic thing he had ever seen, just the right amount of mystery to make it absolutely tantalizing. Haji stared like a man possessed, so absorbed by the breathtaking shadow that it was almost a minute before he realized that Shosuke was sitting on the floor nearby, his eyes also fixed on Saya.

Haji couldn't tell if the boy also hadn't noticed his presence until then, or if he was still hoping that Haji hadn't noticed his. Either way, Shosuke stood and slipped out of the room with a red face and downcast eyes.

Needless to say, the fact that the boy had also been watching didn't sit well with Haji. He even considered calling him out, but decided against it, he himself being equally guilty.

Haji cleared his throat. "Saya?"

"What?" answered the unwitting temptress, still audibly irritable.

"Monsieur Otonashi wants to see – I mean, he wants to speak with you."

"Just a minute."

Haji even couldn't pry his eyes away as the silhouette tied the sash round her robe.

Poor Haji was still nervously wiping away the sweat from his brow when he took his seat in the workshop as had been requested of him.

"Come! Come!" Otonashi exclaimed as Saya finally entered. "Not quite finished polishing it yet, and the accessories aren't done, but -"

Saya was fairly sure that in all the weeks she'd known him, Otonashi had never once smiled, but now, he stuck her as what Dickens had meant by _merry as a schoolboy._

The old smith held the weapon up at eye level, unsheathing it slowly, all the while grinning as if about to deliver the punchline to a joke. The glow from the fire reflected off the blade, creating a gold stripe of light across his eyes.

Otonashi chuckled proudly as he finally pulled the scabbard away.

"I went through four designs and six rejects before I came to this," he declared as he handed the blade to it's new owner.

"No more cutting up your whole hand to spread the blood around. This part is double edged," he pointed to the unique, angled bend in the blade beside the guard, "So you cut your finger here, and the blood flows into these channels here, the funny shape gives the blood a little momentum so it spreads easily." He gave a toothy smile and held up a bandaged thumb. "I tried it myself."

Otonashi gave a sigh of satisfaction as he watched his student examine his masterpiece. "I love my work."

* * *

Back then, Haji still spent most of his nights laying awake in bed, partially to keep up appearances, and partially because he hadn't yet accepted the insomniac aspect of a Chevalier. He did take some genuine relaxation from it when he managed to coax his mind into a sort of waking repose.

That night, he was roused from his meditative state not by a sound, but by a scent.

_Incense. A lot of it._

His eyes opened to dim room full of smoke, glancing around, and catching sight of the incense burner that had been placed just inside the door.

It was then that he noticed someone standing in the doorway, veiled in the fragrant haze. He recognized her instantly.

"Saya, what is it? Are you alright?"

She approached without a word, and sat beside him on the futon, a glow budding in her eyes. He knew what that meant, but she'd never bothered him for blood in the middle of the night before.

_Perhaps she was too upset with me to ask earlier._

He reached into the coat folded by his bed, and pulled out his pocketknife, one hand on the handle, the other on the blade. Before he could make the incision, Saya seemed to materialize in his arms, ripping away the collar of his robe and biting into his neck.

His gasp sounded more like a moan, surprised but obviously not displeased by her actions. She had fed from him many times in the past, but always from his hand. Their shared Victorian background produced an unspoken agreement that for her to put her mouth on his neck would be indecent.

In the midst of this novel pleasure, he couldn't help but wonder if perhaps this was a sign that her feelings for him had indeed jumped the bounds of platonic friendship, as her fretting from earlier that day seemed to corroborate.

The pair of sharp teeth retracted from his skin, and a velvet tongue swept across the wound. He felt petite hands slipping between folds of his kimono, fingertips slowly raking across his chest.

"Saya?" he whispered tentatively, scooting away before she could disrobe him further.

"Say that you love me," she breathed into his ear.

"I love you."

What exquisite catharsis, to say those words he'd been holding in for so long. They rolled off his tongue so naturally as to make him unsure if he'd only said it because she'd asked him, or if it would have come out regardless.

Haji could feel his own heart slamming against his ribs as she crawled back into his lap. A vision of her unwitting performance behind the paper screen flashed in his mind, the shadow of that body had been gnawing at him all night and was now pressed against him so invitingly.

"Say it again," she sighed, dragging her lower lip across his neck.

"I love you."

She let out a lewd moan, one hand effortlessly pulled away his robe, the other crept up his thigh, immediately beginning a course of relentless caresses.

Haji was generally the sort of man to keep his wits about him in intense situations, his ability to reason, though halved, was intact enough to make him realize that the way she was touching him seemed a good bit more to-the-point than the timid explorations of a curious virgin. He knew that Saya had received more sex education than the average woman of her time and class, mainly out of Joel's erroneous belief that it would encourage her to mate. But were her lessons _this_ comprehensive? Wouldn't instructing her in anything other than outright intercourse be somewhat counter productive to Joel's singular goal of procreation? Or, alternatively, he knew she was fond of romance novels, but were they _this_ detailed?

He sealed his lips between his teeth, aware of the thin, paper walls, his body paralyzed by indecision. What was actually only a few seconds seemed like _hours_.

_Perhaps there'd be no harm in just -_

Her hands were so intoxicatingly vibrant and warm, so ruthlessly pleasurable, but even through the haze of rising bliss, he still couldn't help but wonder what had precipitated this sudden change in behavior, why Saya, lately so anhedonic and concerned with decorum, would so suddenly display such flagrant lust.

It stood to reason that it had something to do with their argument earlier that day. Could this be her way of apologizing? Considering how deeply her words had hurt him, it wouldn't have been particularly excessive.

But no, he quickly came to the conclusion that it was related to her concerns about Chika, that Saya must think the only way to keep him at her side was to indulge his sinful, male needs herself, that she must believe this was a matter of sacrificing her virtue or sacrifice her comrade.

"Take me, Haji."

Her voice was just as seductive as her command.

In truth, he'd been dreaming up scenarios just like this since he was thirteen, he couldn't think of anything in the world more appealing than making love to Saya. But, if he was correct about the reasons behind this sudden seduction, if he did so, he would be taking advantage of her insecurities, and taking advantage of her in this context was utterly abhorrent to him. That was not to mention the fact that, at this time, a lady losing her virginity before marriage was often euphemized as a _fate worse than death_.  
What malign irony that unknown to him, in a few weeks, Haji would be cornered into promising to kill her with his own hands.

He pulled away again. "Saya," his voice cracked like he was fifteen again, "you don't have to do this, it's -"

"What is it, mon amour?" she interrupted him, grinning through the smoke and darkness and speaking in a provocative purr. "You don't want me, tonight? I _know_ that you're not too tired. Come now, _mon chevalier,_ make love to me like you always do."

His brows drooped and he looked at her askance.

_She speaks as if we are already lovers… as if she's made the same assumption that strangers always make._

And then it donned on him.

_The incense… it must be to mask the scent…_

Haji scrambled out from under the seductress, hastily closing his robe as he ran through the house, his humiliating suspicions more than enough to wilt the evidence of what he'd just been at.

He slammed open the screen of Saya's bedroom, and his worst fears were confirmed when he saw her rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sat up in bed.

"Haji? What's wrong?"

"Chevalier," he panted.

"Chevalier? Where?"

"In the house."

Saya shot out of bed. "Sensei?! Shosuke?! Chika?!"

"Chika has been dead for several days."

Chika was the one who was speaking, not only in an entirely different voice, but in perfect French.

Otonashi appeared in the doorway.

"_You_?! I knew you'd been acting strangely! I should have known from that terrible dinner!" the old smith growled.

No sooner than she had finished her statement, than young Shosuke, clutching his own sword, charged her with an enraged _yah_, only to be hurled back through the screen into the next room. Otonashi tossed his latest masterpiece to Saya, but was thrown to the floor a fraction of a second later, his head slamming hard against a nearby table.

Saya flinched, pressing her thumb to the root of the blade as she'd been shown, christening the new sword with her blood, eyes reddening in preparation for combat.

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

The new weapon sliced through the murky air towards the disguised beast, but before making contact, a grotesque demonic claw sprouted form one of it's kimono sleeves, and in the blink of an eye, had pried the sword from her hand. The creatures other claw dug into her shoulder, skewering it on it's claws, making escape impossible.

Haji flew towards the monster intending to free his lady, but was stayed when it placed an enormous talon across Saya's throat, making a clear non-verbal statement that it would press down if he came any closer.

The pretty monster grinned at him. "The little Gypsy boy has grown up into a _fine_ young man. Blue eyes and black hair, you remind me of my husband in his younger days. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were his bastard son, no doubt by his _mistress_."

Saya was able to deduce the creature's identity, not so much due to the implications and context of her statement, but due to her voice. She knew that distinctive meek, flutey voice; she'd heard it often at Goldschmidt get-togethers. They had been on a first name basis.

"Astrid?"

"I see you remember me."

"Astrid Goldsmith? You're a Chevalier?" Saya stammered.

"I suppose the proper term would be _Chevaliere," _she placed particular emphasis on the last syllable.

"But – you died years ago, of consumption."

"Now don't get the wrong idea, don't think that my husband put that blood in my mouth because he couldn't bear to see me cough up anymore of my own, as a matter of fact, he couldn't even get me to keep it down, he had to inject it. No, he just wanted to know if it would work on a woman and I was his most convenient test subject, someone who's loyalty was assured, his obedient wife of forty-five years, _so_ obedient that she would go all the way across the world to this _backward_ country just to throw off his enemies." She gave brief, bitter laugh, "Perhaps he did change me out of _love_, but not love of _me_. It has been a long time since there has been any room in his heart for me, even now when I can make myself young and beautiful, still, he only has eyes for _one_."

Saya attempted to grasp at the sword at her feet, but it was too far out of her reach, and she had no chance of overpowering a chiropteran that had just imbibed a family of four.

"But if I kill you Saya, hewill be pleased. I'll be able to go home." The creature turned her head, pressing her cheek to Saya's temple. "I wonder, if I cut off your head, will it grow back, like a lizard's tail?" She let out a chuckle slightly reminiscent of her husband's.

Before the grisly experiment could be performed, a high, sharp, feminine cry of pain resonated through the room.

It had come from the monster, startled by the sting of steel in her back.

Shosuke stood directly behind her, grasping the hilt of his sword, face bearing a look that was nothing short of inspiring, the harrowing resolve of a hero avenging his murdered family.

A split second later, the creature whirled around to face him, slicing through his neck with one stroke of her claw. As the wide-eyed fearless boy fell back and slid against the wall to the floor, Saya took the opportunity to retrieve her blood-coated sword and immediately thrust it into the monster, lodging it deep in it's abdomen. Saya stumbled backwards, panting, one hand covering the still gushing wound in her shoulder.

The creature grasped the hilt of the sword and pulled it from her own body, but instead of the expected gurgling-splat, the sound of the blade being removed was reminiscent of breaking glass.

"What?" she really did sound confused as she looked down at her wound, watching as the cracks began to spread.

"What is this?" she exclaimed in a terrified, trembling gasp, "what is happening to me?" Her eyes frantically darted back and forth between her wound and the faces of her onlooking enemies. "What is happening to me?!"

The creature's face contorted in shock and agony as her legs crumbled beneath her, her arms shattering against the floor when she fell to it.

Both Haji and Saya looked on, aghast and even slightly sickened, not realizing that someday, they would see this macabre phenomenon on an almost nightly basis.

The cracks had reached her face, but strangely, the pain seemed to drain out of her features as she turned to face her enemies once more, her expression one of epiphany.

"London. They're in London," she gasped with her last breath.

Astrid Goldsmith would have the distinction of being the only _Chevaliere_ in known history. Based on her _case study _and the eventual discovery of her treacherous last words, Amshel concluded that women were too emotionally unstable to serve Diva, and he would never instigate the creation of another female Chevalier.

* * *

It had been just under two days since the termination of the target, passage to England on the first available ship had been booked, and they were to depart for Yokohama harbor later that afternoon.

Saya had been especially quiet since the battle, her mind weighed down by what would be the first of her life's many bittersweet victories.

His cremation having taken place earlier that morning, at the moment, her thoughts were centered on Shosuke. But the emotion that dominated her reflections on his death was not guilt, as one might expect.

It was envy.

_He gave his life to avenge his family and prevent the murder of others. He did his duty as a good son and a good human being._

_And now he's at peace._

She sat in silence, staring off at nothing, so zoned out that she started slightly when Haji sat beside her.

The sight of her companion drew her mind to another subject.

Interestingly, Saya's anger with Haji seemed to completely dissipate upon the unmasking and death of the maid.

"Haji, I've been wondering – how did you figure out that _she_ was a Chevalier?"

Haji seriously considered lying, but couldn't quite bring himself to do it.

"She came into my bed."

This was one of the rare moments in which Haji's face displayed an obvious, intense expression. That look of absolute mortification made his meaning abundantly clear, even to someone as naïve as Saya.

She stared at him, horrified. "Did you -?"

"No," he answered decisively, praying that he wouldn't be asked to give further details.

For some reason, Saya felt relieved to hear that.

"But wait, that still doesn't explain how you figured out she was a Chevalier."

Again, he seriously considered lying.

"She came in - wearing your face. I was able to determine that it wasn't really you."

Now it was Saya's turn to look mortified. Irrational though it seemed, somehow, she really felt personally embarrassed for the imposter's actions.

His statement also gave her a good deal to think about.

_So she tried to seduce him, pretending to be me? I guess she must have thought we were lovers – but – he said that they didn't – he rejected her –_

_He rejected me._

_Hmm. I guess that means he's not interested in me like that. I was actually starting to _wonder_… but no, I guess not._

_That's –_

_That's a relief – _

… _I guess. _

"Finally, all done!"

Otonashi pushed back the screen separating them from the workshop, conveniently putting an end to the discomfort of the moment. He had that schoolboy look again while motioning for Saya and Haji to come examine the creations now laid out on the floor mat, each covered by a worn blanket.

"This was, by far, the hardest to make, I had to consult a carpenter on the design, and put a lot of thought into it, but I think it turned out well."

Otonashi pulled back the cloth, revealing what would become an iconic part of their arsenal. The shape of the large box was such that neither Haji nor Saya knew what use the black lacquered, child-sized coffin could possibly have for them.

"The shell is solid steel, as hard as any shield or armor, and because of this, it is incredibly heavy, I think that with a bit of momentum, it could bash through a man's skull like a pumpkin, and thus probably do some considerable damage to a monster too. These steel plates cover the areas most likely to get scratched. I had to adjust the design quite a bit from the original, if I had made it with curves, like the case you already have, it wouldn't be nearly as strong."

Otonashi snapped the box it open, revealing a distinctively shaped cavity, lined in blue velvet.

"A cello case?"

The old smith nodded. Both he and Haji simultaneously descended to the floor, hovering over it as if looking under the hood of a car. "Here's for your bow, here and here - compartments for accessories or what-have-you."

Otonashi smiled broadly as he pushed aside what appeared to be a small metal charm. "This is my favorite part!" he declared proudly. "Watch! Watch!"

A pair of doors popped open, revealing Saya's new sword, now completed

"You can't wear swords in public these days, even in Japan. This should allow you to bring it along, even to places where weapons are not allowed."

Otonashi would have been highly gratified to know that his invention hid her sword so well, that in the distant future, it would always go through airport security completely unmolested.

Saya gestured to the sword. "May I?"

Otonashi nodded, and handed her the weapon. Saya looked over her newly finished nihonto, admiring the ingrained pattern that ran along the side of the blade across the unique channels. It looked almost as though ice crystals were creeping up from the cutting edge.

"The accents are blue. To remind you of your enemy," Otonashi said a little more solemnly.

Saya began slowly slicing though the air, cycling through a few stances, as if to get aquatinted with the finished piece.

The old smith turned back to Haji, the smile returning to his face as he gestured to another not-yet uncovered creation. "I have something else for you, I just put the finishing touches on these a few minutes ago. I figured that with the sword tucked away in the case, you'll need to have some easily accessible weapons incase you're suddenly attacked, but something small enough to hide about your person."

He pulled back yet another cloth, revealing nine small daggers.

"The cross-shape is so that if you throw it at one of those monsters, it won't slide all the way into the body and get lost, they heal so quickly, you know." He grinned as he gestured to the shimmering, slightly variegated red jewels adorning each weapon. "Pretty neat, no? A good luck charm."

A tiny, hint of a smile spread across Haji's lips. "Thank you. I will put these to good use."

"Excuse me." An unknown voice came from the door. "We are ready to depart."

"I believe that's our ride," Haji said, looking up. "I'll go load our things."

Haji exited, leaving only Saya and Otonashi.

"It's all perfect, sensei – I don't know how to thank you -"

"Don't thank me. These aren't gifts. They are tools for you to save lives, my contribution to the cause."

Saya gave a tacit bow, nevertheless.

"Saya, there is something I want to ask you before you leave." Otonashi sounded a little less stern than usual, but it was different from the jovial tone he had when showing off his work.

"Yes, sensei?"

"What will you do after you kill this - Diva?"

"I don't know," she answered truthfully.

"You don't?"

"I haven't really thought about it – I've – the only reason I live is to destroy her, so when it's over -" she couldn't quite finish.

Otonashi nodded, and seemed deep in thought for a moment. "Saya," he began in a far more tender voice than she'd ever had from him, "even in this short time, I have come to think of you like a daughter - so I will tell you what I believe you should do," he paused, "but it is a delicate matter, so I will try my best to say it with subtly - I do think, that at least part of you already knows what you should do, but you might be too scared to do it. Don't be afraid." He paused again. "Your friend, Haji, he is a rare man, it's not everyday one comes across a man who is strong enough to kill monsters and will do whatever a girl tells him to - but, I think he isn't as brave as he looks. Like you, I think Haji knows what he should do when it's over, but I think he will be too afraid to do it on his own initiative. _You _will need to ask _him_ and then, I think you will have your deliverance. I do not think you will be able to achieve that on your own. He will help you find peace."

Saya was speechless for a few seconds, "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

Otonashi shook his head. "Just as well, it's probably not my place to tell you what to do with your life."

Haji paced into the room. "Whenever you're ready," he said, and exited again, sensing that he had walked in on a private conversation.

The current and future Otonashi slowly walked out together, "Saya, just remember, you _say_, and he will _do_. You might search for a thousand years and you will never find another man like that. You should ask him soon, it would give you both some peace of mind, I think. It will not be easy, but it will be for the best."

Haji helped her into the chase.

Sensing that the time for good-byes had come, Saya was forced to abandon the subject, despite still being confused as to what Otonashi was getting at.

She would contemplate his meaning all throughout the voyage, and during the final leg of their journey, the train ride from Liverpool to London, this rumination would lead to a fateful request of her companion, but not the request Otonashi actually had in mind.  
A misunderstanding due to an unfortunate combination of vagueness on one side and a still slightly loose grasp of the language on the other, and then distorted by Saya's inner demons.

"Are you sure that there's nothing we can do to thank you?"

The old smith cracked a smile. "Don't give up. That's what you can do for me."

Saya nodded. "I won't."

The impatient driver snapped the reins, and the passengers jolted as the coach began.

"Keep up with your drills and you just might get good someday!" Otonashi called out.

* * *

…

The faint hammering from upstairs hadn't stopped. A drop of the cool water rolled down her cheek and over her ear.

She opened her eyes to a familiar face. He had always adored that little coo Saya usually made when she woke.

"Haji."

* * *

Good or bad, c'mon, you must have _something_ to say to that! Please?


	8. Changes

She awoke utterly disoriented, as she was prone to do even under normal circumstances, let alone when her brain was exhausted from decoding and organizing vast amounts of information that had just been shoved out of her subconscious. The first moment after waking was marked by an unsettling feeling, the opposite of déjà vu: everything seemed foreign, unfamiliar.

But the face above her, she knew. His presence soothed away the momentary panic.

"Haji."

He was like a landmark to a lost traveler. Slowly, she began to piece together her current reality – or at least to think that she was.

Waking up in a strange room, wearing her peridot sleeveless blouse and white skirt, reeking of blood, gripped by the lingering ache and exhaustion of an intense battle, Haji leaning over her, calm but clearly concerned, wearing the same suit he had since the mid sixties, no sign of anyone else…

Nothing was out of place in terms of a one-year period of her life during the early twenty-first century.

_Oh, right._

Only, she was not right.

"Haji, let's go."

At one time, those words had been roughly equivalent to _good morning _(or evening as the case often was), though generally without the _good_. The manner with which she said it, that flat, determined inflection, was enough to clue him in that she wasn't suggesting they make their way back to Kai's house, but rather that she was ready for another night's hunt in London, Paris or some such place.

_She's lost the now._

Haji was entirely aware of what was happening, that her memory had returned during the night and that she was probably confused as to where, and when she was at the moment. That was how it had gone in 1916 and 1962 – a brief, mid-battle psychotic episode, followed by a fitful few hours of sleep, ending with a very discombobulated morning. He couldn't explain why events thirty years ago had been so different, so incremental, but he supposed it could have to do with her sleep having been interrupted, or perhaps her going without his blood for a whole year, or any number of unknown biological factors.

At this time, the mechanism and purpose of hibernation was still a mystery to both of them, but they would be informed of the truth soon enough.

Mechanically, Saya reached to the right of her mat, grasping her sword and pulling it close, as a child would do to their guardian blanket.

As she rose to her feet in the center of the thin futon, sword in hand, the nostalgic dream that might have otherwise been forgotten came to mind. Having dreamt of the past in such detail didn't surprise her at all, nor did the subsequent vague recollection of that symbolist nightmare that had preceded it – both such types of dreams often invaded her slumber in the past.

But, for some reason, she had an uncertain, but persistent feeling that there had been another dream at one point during the night.

_Yes, something about Okinawa – Kai with gray hair. _Saya smirked inwardly, _- and he was married to Mao… they had a boy named George, and their daughters were twins with eyes just like me and Diva – we all went to school together – Kaori was my gym teacher… and Haji… oh god! I think I had a crush on him!_

…_What a strange dream… strange… but nice…_

The notion that it could have been real didn't even cross her mind at that time. Losing the now was compounded by not believing it.

She shook her head, as if to banish these pleasant, but distracting thoughts.

… _just a dream… I have no time left for dreams…_

But that was when Saya's gaze fell upon the morning sky through the window.

"Why didn't you wake me?!" she frantically demanded of her companion. "Why did you let me sleep all night? It's already dawn, Haji you know that the roars stop during the day, it'll be impossible to find them -"

As Saya's eyes searched the room for a clock, she saw something that certainly didn't belong in some European hole-in-the-wall.

A little tawny-spotted, knobby-toed reptile scurried in a squiggly line across the wall.

_A Gecko…_

She glanced out the window again, and noticed the palm frond swaying on the other side of the glass.

"W-where are we?"

"Okinawa ci- Koza."

It took her a moment to form her next question.

"W-what year is it?"

"2038."

"Diva is-?"

"Dead."

"Her Chevaliers?"

"Dead."

Of course, Haji still didn't recognize Solomon's claim on Saya as his Queen, but he could see that Solomon was obviously no longer Diva's Chevalier either.

"Then - it's – it's over?"

Saya sank to her knees under the immense weight of this concept.

But he didn't answer this time.

"No. It's not over," Saya murmured to herself, recollecting something of the previous evening. "Those were chiropterans that attacked us last night."

It might have seemed that she should have been saddened by this, and she was, but at the same time there was also a strange, yet profound comfort in the knowledge that her mission hadn't ended.

Everything was as it was, as it _should_ be. Familiar.

_There are chiropterans to be killed, and Haji is with me._

That was when her mind retrieved one particularly crucial memory, she slowly looked up at her companion, now kneeling beside her, his form briefly superimposed by an image of him disappearing under several tons of rubble, followed by a distant view of an enormous fireball, the roar of the explosion combined with a second agonized utterance of his name while she made another frantic attempt to break away from Kai's dogged grip on her arm.

…

"C'mon Saya, he's even more indestructible than David, he'll be okay."

Hot wind suddenly flew into her face and through her hair.

"Saya, you go back in there, and I'm going with ya, like it or not!"

Without realizing it, she had already started running again, she and Kai quickly catching up to the group.

_He'll be alright he'll be alright he'll be alright he'll be alright…_

…

"You're alive," she murmured tentatively, as if she doubted the truth of the statement.

Saya scooted closer to her companion, eagerly seizing his hands.

"You're alive!" she finally exclaimed.

She virtually dove at him, throwing her arms around him and covering his cheeks and forehead with a frenzy of kisses, a rapid succession on his left cheek, then leaping over his nose to the right. In that moment, there was none of the bashfulness of a modern teenage girl or the self-denying frigidity of a single-minded warrior or the prudishness of a Victorian maiden.

That wasn't to say that it was truly an act of romantic passion either, simply an expression of unmitigated emotion and a type of love that couldn't quite be defined. Haji seemed to recognize this, his only action, or reaction, was an irrepressible smile.

For the most part, they were the quick, chaste but zealous pecks a child might give to their mother after a fretted-upon absence. But the concluding kiss, whether by accident or design or some combination of the two, landed squarely on his lips, lingering there well into the ambiguous seconds that separate a brief show of affection between friends or family and a display that would have obviously labeled them as lovers. Such had been their relationship for quite some time.

Her lips left his half a heartbeat before he would have given himself permission to _really_ kiss her back, to kiss her in a way only slightly less inappropriate now than it would have been at the Met, deeply, recklessly, lustfully, the way he'd wanted to when he felt her swallow around his blood-dripping tongue that first night at her school or when she shivered in his arms during that flirtatious cello lesson three weeks ago or a thousand other times.

"Saya…"

That simple sound ended her momentary lapse into mania, bringing her to a more characteristic expression of her current feelings.

She knelt, half cradled in his embrace, sobbing into his shoulder for a few more seconds before she finally brought herself to speak in a tearful, yet still somehow frantic tone.

"I knew you were alive, I knew it, I knew it. I knew it." She sunk down a few inches, until she was literally crying into his heart, "But god, by the end, I was starting to get really worried, what took you so long?!"

"I was trapped, I was unable to get out until some of the debris was cleared. I am sorry."

She finally raised her eyes to his, her lips slightly parted. "_You're_ sorry?! God Haji! How can you say that when _I_ left _you_ behind! I should have stayed with you, I should have been there with you, and I didn't want to leave New York without you, but David said we had to leave the country right away and – I'm sorry, oh god, it should have been _me_ in there, or at least I should have been there with you, I should have stayed with you."

"I am glad you didn't."

"But I _should_ have!" she exclaimed, looking up at him questioningly. "Would _you_ have left _me_ behind?!"

"No." The answer was so obvious to both of them that a lie in that case wouldn't have protected her feelings. "But that's not the same. I have sworn to protect you, to stay by your side."

"But what about _you_?!" She almost found herself blurting out the thought that instantaneously followed.

_Why haven't _I_ sworn to stay by _your_ side, Haji?_

…_Wait. Why haven't I?_

For whatever reason, that small reflection seemed to make her regain her self-consciousness. Though she was still too happy to be truly embarrassed, she did feel compelled to change the subject to something a little less romantically charged.

"Look at me," she said, smiling as she reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, "I even cry when I'm happy."

As if on cue, a car could be heard, screeching to a halt just outside, followed by the sound of a van door rolling open. Saya and Haji exchanged glances. Somehow, neither felt it necessary to peer out the window at the approaching footsteps.

The visitors gave a cursory knock, and then clearly attempted to turn the doorknob, to no avail. Haji didn't unlock the door until Saya had given a listless a nod of approval.

The first thing Saya thought was – _who are these old guys?_

Then it hit her.

_David and Lewis._

Not recognizing them had just as much to do with their age as it did with other changes in their appearance, Lewis, though not at all thin, had lost a great deal of weight, and David seemed to have acquired the inevitable tan of a long-time resident of Okinawa. However they had changed, the two men were still clearly a study in opposites, David was the sort of person who could end a party with a look, Lewis was the sort of person who could start one, though he did seem to be in serious mode at the moment.

Just behind them stood Kai and Mao, both with the shadowed eyes and slightly tousled look of someone who'd been up all night.

True to form, David got straight to the point.

"A brief investigation of the incident last night has allowed us to verify that the corpse corps were shipped to Kadena by way of Hickam Airforce Base, in Honolulu. We have a jet on standby at Naha, there will be enough time for you to stop a the Miyagusuku-Jahana residence to pick up your things, but we hope to be underway within the hour."

"If that's okay with you," Kai interjected. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to. No one's gonna _make_ you fight."

David looked slightly annoyed at his subordinate 's interference. To him, Saya's participation was a matter of course.

Saya glanced at the faces of the group. This was a familiar feeling, everyone in the room staring at her expectantly. She made no response, and didn't quite know why she was hesitating.

"I assume that you will be joining us too, Haji," said Lewis, trying to push Saya with a little more subtlety.

"I will do only what Saya wishes."

A small gasp slid between Saya's lips at the sound of those words.

The sensation that she'd been unable to explain two weeks ago, the feeling of hot tears and cool lips on her face, suddenly made sense as she recalled yet another pivotal moment, just prior to the one that had triggered her giddy display of affection a few minutes earlier. For some reason, the phrase that stuck out in her mind was not his plea for her life…

"_I have always loved you, Saya…"_

Her head snapped to the side, staring at the man who had said those words.

_He… said that he loved me._

What a bizarre concept. Just yesterday, he'd been a desirable older man whom she didn't have a chance with. Excepting the guilt over a century and a half of bloodshed and the responsibility to end it, she'd just found herself in a teenage girl's dream.

She flushed noticeably, recalling, with no small amount of embarrassment, some of the thoughts she'd entertained over the past few weeks, particularly the steamy girlish fantasies of which he had been the star.

_God, what was wrong with me? I should be ashamed of myself, thinking that about Haji! He's like family!_

_Or…_

_Was anything wrong with me?_

_Girls always seem to like Haji… maybe I was just being normal… for once…_

"Yo, Saya?"

Kai always had a talent for snapping her out of her reveries.

"Let's go."

The commanding call to action was meant just as much for herself as the rest of the party.

…_There are things I must do. People I must protect…_

* * *

The only view afforded by the window seat was an endless ocean pressed up against an orange sky, as the plane had overtaken the sunrise.

"Hey Saya." Mao leaned back over her seat. "It's pretty boring, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"The _future_. I mean, I'd always thought we'd have either world peace or a nuclear holocaust by now, and – you know, flying cars, guns that shoot lasers, a cure for every disease, an American military-free Okinawa - it's pretty disappointing isn't it?"

"I didn't really think about it. But I guess it is kind of the same – you're all the same."

Mao laughed, "Yeah, 'cept with saggy boobs and more wrinkles than I'd like."

"You look nice! I like your new hairdo!"

"Oh, this?" Mao tossed her head, ruffling her short, now red-tinged hair. "I've had it like this for _years – _I get more respect at work with it this way. Excepting him," Mao gestured to Haji, "I've never met a man who liked taking orders from a woman, but for some reason, the more you look and act like a man, the more they treat you like an equal. Funny how that works."

Saya nodded in agreement. She had learned that lesson long ago, particularly during the early days of the Red Shied when it's leaders had an infuriating habit of completely ignoring any and every idea she contributed. Interestingly, when she cut her hair and started wearing men's clothes, both for symbolic and practical reasons, they seemed to attend her a little better.

"Saya, you remember when we went shopping with my sister a few weeks ago, right?

"Yeah," she answered, a little confused as to why that had just come up.

"Don't you get it, _Otonashi_?" Mao held up her pinky finger and laughed. "You kept your New York promise after all, and didn't even know it."

A little smile spread across Saya's lips. "Yeah, I guess I did."

Mao sat back down in her seat, leaning over to whisper to her husband, the roar of the plane engine more than loud enough to keep the conversation private.

"I don't get it."

"Don't get what?"

"If Saya's remembered all that screwed up stuff from her past, then why does she seem like she's in an even better mood than she was in yesterday. I mean, why isn't she freaking out, rocking back and forth, curled up in the fetal position?"

"That's Saya for you," Kai said, his tone an odd combination of pity and admiration.

"Well, I don't get it."

Kai thought for a moment. "I think you do, though. You take your job seriously – do you let yourself get overwhelmed by personal shit when you have work to do?"

"Good point."

In general, Kai was absolutely right, but at the moment, there was a little something extra keeping Saya's mind away from dark thoughts, it had returned to it's subject from earlier that morning.

She had been debating whether she should put her hand on Haji's for the past hour.

_He said that he loved me. Twice actually._

… _but did he only say that to keep me from killing myself? And then to make me feel better about leaving him behind? _

_Maybe he didn't mean _that_ kind of love, I mean I guess it's obvious that he loves me in some way, as a friend or even as a... sister… _

_Even if he meant it_ that _way, does he still mean it? It's been thirty years. He could have married and had kids by now, for all I know._

Somehow, that seemed a little _too_ far-fetched.

… _but I guess he still could have changed his mind, realized that I'm not worth -_

_Wait_…

She turned to her companion.

"Haji?"

"Yes?"

"The roses," she spoke quietly enough for the question to be heard only by him, "was that you?"

He looked genuinely confused for a moment. During his many visits to the Miyagusuku-Jahana household, Haji had noticed the enormous bouquet of red roses displayed proudly on the mantle, but hadn't paid it any mind beyond a plausible assumption that it must have been a gift for Mao from someone trying to curry favor with the mob-boss. Naturally, Haji wasn't so nosy as to go looking for the card, which Saya had removed and hidden in her pillowcase shortly after receiving it, anyway.

Having no idea that she might have been referring to the aforementioned bouquet, Haji quickly came to the conclusion that somehow, she must know about the roses he had been periodically leaving at the tomb over the past few decades. Perhaps she had overheard someone talking about them and not known what to make of it until now, or maybe she actually remembered seeing one during those first few minutes after emerging from the tomb.

"Yes."

Of course, Haji never would have intentionally taken credit for someone else's gift, let alone Solomon's. Much as he wished for the failure of Solomon's suit, Haji would have rather died than be in anyway implicated in the efforts of a man he despised so much.

"Oh." She finally gained the courage to place her hand on his. "You're sweet."

_So it was him… but… I guess that still doesn't really mean anything. Haji's been giving me flowers since he was a little boy._

_But that card…_

_"Please consider this a token of my eternal devotion."_

_Hmm, it doesn't seem _like_ Haji to write that in a card that everyone could read. I guess that's why it was anonymous. _

Saya was never very good at interpreting romantic gestures.

_What a romantic thing to say… but…_

…_No, eternal devotion… that's just part of being a Chevalier, isn't it? _

_That's just how they are. He probably just stays with me, protects me because his blood tells him to._

It was only a moment before she recalled a rather glaring anomaly in that theory.

_"It is beyond blood."_

Visual reality was abruptly overtaken by the apparition of green eyes that seemed to see right through her, that sharp sidelong glance that made her question the unquestionable, that soft, head-on stare that made her believe the unbelievable.

_Solomon_…

_God, I'd almost forgotten about him._

In truth, she had hardly even thought of him during those final short weeks after the Met, she had been too preoccupied with trying not to think about Diva and trying not to worry about Haji.

She would have never admitted it, but in the weeks prior to that, her thoughts on Solomon had bordered on obsession. She often engaged prolonged contemplation of his character and motives, such thoughts often peppered by brief, but strangely intrusive erotic ideation. That fixation, that habit of pondering Diva's charming, treacherous Chevalier abruptly returned to her as she sat on the plane that morning.

The man was a consummate enigma to her. He was either the least, or the most evil of Diva's Chevaliers, and that distinction depended entirely on one thing – if he was telling the truth.

On one hand, it seemed entirely likely that his professions of love and loyalty were just an unthinkably manipulative extension of his attempt to win her over to Diva's side that day at the Zoo, in which case he was even more despicably insidious than Amshel.

But if he was telling the truth – then he really had left Diva, surrendering his allegiance to her minions…

Or did that even exonerate him from evil? He didn't abandon his family out of moral principal, he had said that he did it to be free to live the life he wanted.

What a seductive concept, to someone like Saya.

_Freedom…_

To _cast of the chains of destiny_ – was that an act of weakness – or of strength? To _leave everything from the past far, far behind_ – was that cowardice – or courage?

The truth was that, in Solomon's case, the answer was – both.

Everything about Solomon confused her, not just in her view of him, but her view of herself, her past…

…and her future.

_I wonder… if he might still –_

Haji's voice echoed in her mind, a moment in that brief conversation just before slipping backstage at the Met, when she had learned of Solomon's fate.

_"I saw him get cut by your sword."_

Her whole body seemed to sink down into the seat.

_He's dead. He has to be._

_Solomon is dead._

_There's no way Diva's Chevaliers would save him, a traitor, like they did with James._

_He's dead._

_And I killed him._

Her throat and lower lip tensed with a soft gulp.

_I killed him, just as surely as if I ran him through myself. My fault._

_He gave up everything for me, and I killed him. He died for me._

_He didn't deserve to die, least of all by my hand._

Her eyes closed, as if to hold in the tears.

_Could he have really loved me?_

_Could I have…_

All of her previous doubts about his character and sincerity seemed obsolete at the moment. After all, a person's flaws and misdeeds have a way of becoming trivial while mourning their death.

All those pretty words he'd said that night on the rooftop or while defending her from James began running through her head as ceaselessly as an infectious melody, and illustrated by fanciful images of what might have been. A future where the past had been left far, far behind, the chains of destiny cast off without regret or remorse, with a man who made no secret of adoring her, who seemed to understand and wish to indulge this shameful, secret desire for freedom, a man who would carry her off into a dream, instead of drag her back into a nightmare…

Her chest heaved with stifled sobs.

Saya had absolutely no idea that, at that very moment, a few rows behind her, one of the passengers was on the phone with the man over whose death she was now grieving so passionately.

"Nathan? You're actually _calling_ me? You usually just show up on my living room couch whenever you have something to say."

"Well, the thing is, I'm kind of on a plane. Everyone is."

"What do you mean, everyone? The Red Shield? Is Saya with you?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Has her memory returned?" Solomon asked eagerly.

Nathan leaned to the side in his seat and glanced at the Queen in question.

"Hmm, well, she is weeping in Haji's arms at the moment, so I think it's safe to assume – yes."

That mental image wouldn't have bothered Solomon nearly so much if he had known that by an odd coincidence, she happened to be crying on his account.

"Aka and Ruka are with you?"

"Mm-hmm."

Solomon sighed. "And they _promised_ they'd call me as soon as her memories -"

"Oh give them a break, will you?! They had about ten minutes to pack and god forbid they'd take saving the world more seriously than your love life!"

"Wait. Nathan, how in the hell did you get the Red Shield to bring _you_ along?"

"You know as well as anyone that I'm pretty good at getting people to do whatever I want."

"Hmm, why didn't they ask me? They have before," Solomon wondered aloud.

"Well, now that they've got Saya and Haji back, I'd imagine they're no longer so desperate as to solicit the help of someone known to have a questionable sense of loyalty."

Solomon ignored the comment.

"Where are you all headed?"

"Honolulu."

"Hawaii? What could make the Red Shield interested in Hawaii? I don't suppose it's a company retreat."

"Can't say any more over the phone, Lewis says there's a good chance they're bugged." Nathan paused. "Well, I assume that you'll be on the next flight out, shouldn't be too hard if price is no object, and it rarely is with you, as a matter of fact, if you get on one of those newfangled planes, you might just beat us here. So here's the deal, I'll meet you under the Iolani banyan at eight p.m., by then I'll have some more information with which you can plan your climactic entrance – I must say, you really are fabulous at revealing yourself at the most dramatic moment, waiting until the situation is so dire that she can't refuse your help - is that intentional? Oh well, gotta go. Tah, or should I say, _Aloha_."

A manicured finger hit the red button, and the phone slipped back into his pocket.

"It's getting close," Nathan whispered to his imaginary audience, his gaze shifting toward the clouds just outside the window. "Soon my love, soon."

He grinned to himself as he donned a pair of headphones and sought out one of the few non-classical playlists, singing obnoxiously to himself before the song even began.

"Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes…"

* * *

End of Blood of Awakening

* * *

Continued in _Where Black Met Gold_. Check my profile to find it, if you so desire.

For those of you who didn't read _Where Black Met Gold_ first (if you skipped/ignored that memo about this being a prequel), I should note that the first chapter there of was originally a oneshot, and one of the first bits of fiction I ever did in my life. Therefore, if the style is different (crappier) compared to what you've just read, than please just give it a few chapters, it actually should get remotely interesting.

And no rats were harmed in the writing of this story.

Oh, and I will take this oppertunity to announce that a _Where Black Met Gold_ sequel will probably appear sometime later this summer.

And of course, I would absolutely LOVE it if you reviewed!

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and an extra special thank you to Lullabyes for the invaluable input and editing!


End file.
